


Tumblr Giveaways 3

by ADeadlySheep



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Fables: The Wolf Among Us (Video Game), Final Fantasy XV, Overwatch (Video Game), Red Dead Redemption (Video Games), The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Partner, Abusive Relationships, Accidental Werewolf Transformation, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angel!Reader, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bigby Blushes, Bigby Drinks Respect Women Juice, Birthdays, Biting, Bittersweet, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch!Genji - Freeform, Blackwatch!McCree, Blackwatch!Moira, Blackwatch!Reyes, Blood, Bruises, Choking, Civilian!Reader, Coffee, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Creampie, Crushes, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Violence, F/F, F/M, Fake Dating, Fall of Altissia, Fighting, Fist Fighting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Full Moon, Gen, Gladio is Soft Man, Gore, Heavy Angst, Holding Hands, John Mulaney References, Knotting, Let Bigby Blush 2020, Let Gladio Be Soft 2020, Licking, Light Angst, M/M, Mating, Mental Health Issues, Mentions to Comics, Mermaid!Reader, Motorcycles, Multi, Mundy!Reader, Other, Physical Abuse, Post Fall of Insomnia, Proposals, Rainy Day Date, Reader has insomnia, Reunion Sex, Rough Sex, Scratching, Secrets, Sex, Smut, So much angst, Soft Intercourse, Soft sex, Werewolf Bites, Werewolf Mates, Werewolf Sex, Werewolf Transformation, Werewolf Turning, Werewolves, Winner's OC - Freeform, a/b/o dynamics, carnival date, coffee dates, deputy!reader - Freeform, dom!reader, domestic abuse, injuries, marriage proposals, midnight adventures, rainy day, reunited, sunrise, vampire!ardyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 24,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22379263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADeadlySheep/pseuds/ADeadlySheep
Summary: 20 New Years Giveaways from our Tumblr blog: Sheep-and-Lykos
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Reader, Bigby Wolf/Reader, Bigby Wolf/You, Charles Smith/Reader, Farkas/Reader, Genji Shimada/Reader, Gladiolus Amicitia/Reader, Ignis Scientia/Reader, Jesse McCree/Reader, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Original Character(s), Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Original Female Character(s), Prompto Argentum/Reader, Sebastian Castellanos/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 167
Collections: Sheep & Lykos Tumblr Giveaways





	1. Ignis Scientia x Angel!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:
> 
> Blood  
> Mentions of Death  
> Song Choice: Foster the People - I Would Do Anything For You

Rubble and ruin sat heavy just as the thick rivets of smoke and ash did the sky. Distant sirens blared, screams of injured survivors rattle the now ruined city, water rushing through every crack and crevasse the now toppled Altissia has to offer.

With trembling, lanky legs, the advisor struggled to stand on shaking ground. Polearm in both hands, its curved, precise tip plunged into the marble stone bricks, he struggled to breathe through the ash.

He searched the wreckage, eyes scanning what little horizon he could make out as his trusty spectacles were now missing with half of the city. In the distance, he could hear her, he could hear Leviathan rampaging, but he could not see her in her ruined mighty as the sky bled black.

He coughed, wheezed, wiped his bleeding nose and limped away from the shattered edge. He felt dizzy, steps quaking as he backed away from the dozen story drop into hazardous waters.

The polearm suddenly shattered into a flurry of blue and cyan crystals, its cool, metal length now missing from the advisor’s needy grasp. He toppled over, barely able to catch himself with his hands in front of him, slowing his fall.

Ridiculous, his mind chided. You’re pathetic. You should be able to handle yourself.

His shoulders quaked, rattled, shook worse than a scared babe at night. His hands, once prim and pristine, clean of any dirt or imperfections now sat bloody and caked in dirt and ash, fingernails cracked and chipped worse than Gladio’s old shield. His palms stung as his blood leaked onto the thirsty brick pavement scratches burning and forcing him to wheeze and whimper. He watched through hazy eyes as cold blood dripped down his face, starting to pool on the floor before him.

He laid there, trying his hardest to keep himself upright, but he found himself slowly fading from consciousness. His shoulders gave out, his cheek hit the pavement, the man cried out in agony as he twisted to his side. Now, laying in his own pools of blood and tears, he whimpered and looked at the ash and smoke pouring into the sky as if they were normal steam factories from outside of the safe walls of Insomnia.

Ignis laid there, eyes fluttering closed, exhaling. He dreamed to be back home in his apartment. He dreamed of his clean sheets and a warm ebony coffee, he dreamed of the polished tiles in his office and the warm dark wooden walls. He wished to be back before all of this happened.

His eyes peeled open slowly. He thought of where the others were. Where Gladio was, where Prompto was, where Noctis was… Where you were…

He remembered when Noctis invited you to tag along on this trip. You were a trust mage for the Citadel, so kind and so inviting. You were a dream to have along on this trip, even if it was the last. You always helped Ignis out. Cooking, cleaning, stitching up clothes and somehow finding a way to get the young king to eat his vegetables without him knowing.

The young king…

His young king, his brothers…

“I failed you…” Ignis sniffled.

A fit of violent coughs wracked his body, the poor man wheezing and hunching into himself, curling into a ball.

“Ignis!”

The voice shocked him. His drooping eyelids peeled open and squinted. He could only make out a large, dark form in front of him, leaning over. Through the hazy glaze over his eyes, he felt himself panicking as he finally started to make out the figure. Instead of a blur, the edges and curves started to harden, colors started to pool out from the darkness, textures were barely coming into his view.

The smoggy sunlight was suddenly no longer in his eyes, the figure now blocking it.

Ignis could finally start to see-

Wings?

“Ignis,” the voice pleaded. Their hands reached out and snagged at his torn collar, fingers gently pushing at his shoulders to roll him onto his back. “Oh Gods, Ignis…”

That voice… The gentle, precise fingerwork… That figure…

“Y/n?” Ignis found himself murmuring.

You locked up, panicked, shocked that he could recognize you when he was this far gone. Ignis watched you slowly find yourself to go back to work on him.

“I’ll… I’ll explain everything, just… Let me fix you up first.”

Ignis’s lanky fingers curled up against the scorched fabric of your sweater, twisting it in his shaking grip.

“Noct-”

“He’s safe. I made sure they were all safe. We couldn’t find you, and… They thought you either got caught or… swept away…” You cleared your throat and quickly searched through your pockets as Ignis’ hand fell limp onto his chest. You procured a potion, half used, and placed the cold glass lip to Ignis’ lips. “Drink. I have to move you, but, I don’t want to cause more damage or pain.”

Ignis eyed you, eyes still hazy, but he could make out your eyes. So warm, so kind, so inviting. You were always one to help, and here you are.

His guardian angel.

Ignis parted his scratched lips slightly, yet the thick, icy cold liquid filled the dry cavity of his mouth and down his aching throat. He could feel the potion starting to work, but it was only able to do so much. The throbbing dulled and he was sure most of his cuts were clotted now, but he was still drowsy from blood loss.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you,” you whispered to him.

‘You could never,’ Ignis thought to himself as he laid still against you.

* * *

“Umm, you wanna explain the wings?” Noctis questioned as he hovered over Ignis’ unconscious body.

“Not now, not when I’m trying to save Ignis’ life,” you glared at the king.

“Give 'em room,” Gladio grunted, picking at his bandages around his meaty biceps.

“Are you an angel or something?” Prompto piped up, looking at his camera, zooming in on what you know without a doubt is you flying off to find Ignis.

“Angel. Something like it at least.”

You tossed the bloody heap of gauze onto the floor and replaced them with clean, sanitized ones.

'Almost done.’

“I’ll explain everything,” you promised, tearing the gauze tape from the roll. “Just… Out. I need to finish, I need to be alone for a bit with him.”

The three complied with your wishes, quietly exiting the makeshift tent as you finally pulled away from Ignis’ body.

You don’t know how long you had spent cleaning your tools and organizing what little stock of potions and elixirs you had when you heard Ignis silently sit up.

“You’re an angel,” he murmured. “Both in reality and in heart.”

The empty potion flask slipped from your fingers and shattered on the ground as you spun and lunged at Ignis. The man matched you, arms tangling and hands snatching at each other, hungry lips connecting to one another. Fingers snatched at each others locks of hair, arms tightening around each others shoulders, backs and waists. You situated yourself between his legs, your warm bodies, despite being tattered and stitched up, fit perfectly together.

Ignis pulled away from you, his hands shakily cupping your cheeks while his forest green eyes searched your face.

“How…?” he whispered, tears pricking his eyes.

“I’m yours. I’ve always been yours,” you sniffed, your own eyes spilling tears.

Ignis’ hands pulled you back in by the collar of your sweater, your lips locking once more in a passionate kiss.


	2. Genji Shimada x Fem!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:
> 
> NSFW Content - Sexual Intercourse  
> Song Choice: Stay With Me - Sam Smith

Cold metal brushed ever so lightly against your warm, soft skin. Delicate tracings, fingertips so precise that you barely felt them draw along with every curve and edge of your body, dancing so softly against your chest, trailing down to your navel.

His fingertips were one thing.

His lips were another.

Scarred lips pressed delicate kisses to your collarbones, along the strong columns of your throat, licked at your sweet skin, nipped at your ears. Soft little pecks against your waiting lips, gentle nuzzling at your chin, encouraging you to tilt your head back further to allow him to drink you in deeply.

Your fingers combed through his soft, jet black hair, twirling against the thick strands and holding on as he stopped worshipping your face to proceed down your body.

Genji **loved** to worship you.

He loved to ravish your body however you wanted it. Rough, fast, gentle, slow. You said the word and Genji would serve your every need. It was like his body was meant too as well. His hands were the perfect size to hold you, to squeeze you, to caress you. His body, a perfect puzzle piece against you despite the plates of armor and synthetic skin. His mouth…

Oh, his mouth.

His mouth could do the devil dirty.

His favorite thing to do is completely destroy you with just his mouth, draw out every moan, every sweet sweet groan from your parted lips.

Genji loved to take you in any way you saw fit.

Your eyes slowly pulled open, your head lulling to the side. Through the sweaty, sticky strands of hair blinding you, you watched him work his magic on your body.

He planted his lips to the chest of your chest, right over your fluttering heart. He grabbed ahold of your chest, cold fingertips slowly covering your nipples until he finally clamped his index fingers and thumbs around the warm buds. He pinched slowly, softly, eliciting a soft moan from your swollen lips. He slowly pinched harder, twisting them just a bit before he unclamped them and gently ran the pads of his thumbs over them. They were throbbing softly, only slowing down just for him to redo what he just left alone. His palms squished the skin of your chest, his other fingers massaging the skin. While still kissing at your heart, he finally decided to glance up at you.

He smirked against your chest, his cold breath spiking chills down your spine. A soft coo left your lips as your back arched into his hands, tummy pressing against his cold synthetic skin.

“Beloved,” he gasped against your skin.

A quick nip sent you squirming, pleading for more of his attention.

“Genji,” you mewed.

He only chuckled softly at your pleas and continued his onslaught of love.

His hands slowly trailed down your ribcage, fingers sliding along every curve of your chest down to your hips where he squeezed them tightly. His lips followed soon after, pressing quick, squishy, loving kisses in a straight line from in between your chest, down your warm tummy, to your navel.

“My love,” he purred, eyeing you from where his nosed at your tummy, “do you wish for more?”

“Please,” you whimpered, face heated and sweat beading at your forehead.

He pulled himself up, hooking forward to press his soft lips to yours for an immediate kiss.

“Anything for you,” he hummed.

You gazed into his deep honey brown hues behind your half-lids. His face, carved to perfection. He was a handsome man, charming, lovable. He was perfection to you.

Your head carved into the gentle pillows cradling your neck, eyes closing. You cried softly as Genji’s heat - or what little of it as his body hadn’t fully adjusted to yours yet - vanished from above you. You peered out from over the ruffles and soft cottons of the sheets and pillowcases to spy Genji removing more of his plated armor. A slight hiss as the plate covering his groin and soon, the chrome plate was tossed carelessly on to the rug off the side of the plush bed.

His erection sprung forward, finally free from its cool, metallic prison.

Genji confided with you one night so long ago, after he had ravished you as he was planning on tonight. He was shocked, back when he had to join Blackwatch when Angela and Ana had to reform his body and provide prosthetics, that his penis was still somehow attatched to him. The one thing that had gotten him in so much trouble with both his father and older brother, for his serial intimacy by bedding people left and right, had not been destroyed when Hanzo struck him down many years ago. He thought the object that helped bring on such agony for him, years of mental scarring, anger management, blood lust, and revenge craving.

But, he was glad he was still left with it in the end.

Genji placed a hand on your belly as he shifted, buckling his knees under his weight, slowly sitting up on his knees. His hands slipped down to your waist, tugging you up, hoisting you up just a bit for him to slide his knees under your bottom. His hands glided down the lengths of your thighs, but not before cheekily pinching at your butt, a short gasp leaving your lips as you scolded him softly. His hands finally came to rest at the inside of your knees, where he gently and slowly shifted your body to have your knees and calves tossed over his shoulders.

Your heart dropped once you saw Genji’s eyes light up with a devilish fire as he lowered himself just a bit, craning his neck to have his mouth aligned with your sex. You whined and squeezed your knees together at the nape of Genji’s neck as his lips hovered over your sensitive flesh. You cried out once his lips finally connected to your hot, pulsing organ. Your hands snatched ahold of his thick locks once more, tugging and pulling on the inky black strands.

He knew how to toy with you, how to push all of your buttons, how to make you scream and beg for him. He knew how to swirl his tongue so perfectly against your skin, he would use his teeth to ever so lightly graze your throbbing sex, his lips were always ready to take you.

His hands danced up and down your thighs, occasionally going right back to your bottom that is now lifted off of the sweat-soaked sheets, perfect for him to snag ahold of your cheeks and squish them.

You cried out, feeling your climax slowly approaching. Your sex pulsed with your rapid heartbeat. Genji’s cold fingers brushing against your heated organs only made the coils inside of you tighten more and more until you finally climaxed right into Genji’s mouth.

Slowly, he placed you back on the bed and climbed above you. With his lips still slick from your climax, he kissed you softly. You could taste yourself on his lips, you could feel him tap at your passageway.

You whimpered once he pushed through, a prickle of pain forcing you to part your lips and cry. Genji shushed you, cooing as he rubbed your thighs in a soothing manner.

He always felt so tight inside of you. You felt so full and stretched. You couldn’t breathe properly from how slow he was moving. You clawed at his chest and stomach, pleading him with your eyes to move faster.

The cyborg only chuckled and teased just a bit more, going at an agonizing pace, so slowly. He groaned, head arcing down and falling between his shoulders, eyes fluttering.

His hips slowly started to pump faster, but he never sped up fully. He kept the pace consistent, loving, soft. He never slammed his hips down on to yours.

You cooed as Genji pressed soft, loving kisses to your cheeks and jaw once more, whispering soft praises to you, spurring you to keep moaning and groaning in his ears. Your cries and moans were nothing but the sweetest music to his ears.

You peered up at him, catching his honey eyes staring down, and smiled at him before another moan forced its way out of your mouth.

“I love it when you moan like that,” Genji purred. A quick kiss to your lips forced your eyes to close in sheer bliss. “Almost as much as I love you.”


	3. Alpha!Ardyn Izunia x Omega!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:
> 
> A/B/O Universe  
> Sexual Scenes  
> Song Choice: Uma Therman - Fall Out Boy

The scent hit him square in the face, so hard it threw his head back just a bit. He stopped walking down the corridors, boots squeaking violently against the linoleum tiled floors at his sudden stop. The Magi-tek soldiers standing down the corridor in two straight lines paid no attention to the Chancellor.

So sweet, so vibrant, so bone-chilling.

Something primal within him threatened to snap right then and there.

The alpha growled and sniffed the air once more, losing himself in the sweet scent of an omega’s heat.

So pleasing to his nose.

It smelled of expensive sweets, of juicy fruits imported into the base, of you.

Ardyn’s jaw tightened, loose hands bolting into fists. He swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly feeling dry. He grew suddenly restless, a coil inside of him heating up just a bit, tightening ever so slowly.

He turned on his heel and immediately proceeded back the way he came, pushing past anyone who tried to get in his way.

* * *

You didn’t hear the doors to your shared chambers open or close, nor did you hear the heavy footsteps slowly march towards you. You were curled up, on your side, your back facing the doors. You laid on the soft, silken sheets of the largest bed you have ever seen, naked as the day you were born. The only thing that clothed you were the beads of sweat rolling down your naked body to join the clear slick that pooled under your thighs.

Not only did you have the sheets surrounding you, tangling with your limp limbs, you had also stolen your alpha’s coats and shirts and soft scarves, anything that held so much of his warm and hearty scent. The articles of varying clothing laid under your overheated body.

You moaned at the cold draft of air roaring through the chambers, begging for more of its cold kiss along your body. Your back curled and you plunged your face into the soft silks of one of Ardyn’s favorite scarves.

Your body completely shut down by this point, refusing to move at all.

You needed your alpha here with you.

You needed his cold touch, his sweet kisses, his loving words.

“Ardyn,” you whimpered pathetically, your hands grabbing fistfuls of the clothing and sheets.

Your body started to quickly heat up once more, you were long for that short, cold draft once more.

And then, it hit you.

Rut.

Ardyn’s rut.

Warm, hearty wine, earthy. It clung to your nose like smoke. You moaned louder, just a bit, and turned your head slightly backwards towards the chamber doors.

“Omega,” you heard him growl out.

“Alpha,” you cried.

You heard his heavy feet quickly approaching your spot, vulnerable, splayed across the bed as if you were nothing but a feast to a starving traveler. Your neck finally craned just enough for you to catch a glimpse of Ardyn’s quickly walking up to you.

The man’s long, lanky fingers tore apart the buttons of his jacket and dress shirt. His face, normally set in perfect cheeky stone now flushed. His cheeks and nose a merry pink, sweat dripping off of his clean-cut jawline to the thirst marble tiles and lush expensive rugs below his feet. The man feverishly tore off his sweaty clothing, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder, the articles of clothing skidding across the marble. The same happened with his trousers and underwear, his boots haplessly kicked off and to the side.

“What a mess you’ve made,” Ardyn choked through grit teeth. His burgundy hair was a mess, sticking to his sweaty face, casting dark shadows against his amber eyes. “And what a mess you’ve made of me, omega.”

“Alpha,” you whined.

Somehow you managed to will your back to slowly twist just enough to move your chest as to lay on your back, your head flopping down, allowing you to look at your alpha. Your eyes greedily drank up his delicious body, cut from the finest of stones by the Astrals themselves.

Your eyes lingered down to his throbbing member, a bead of precum slowly pearling. You were quickly reminded of the agonizing throbbing pulsating through your core. You cried out, your hips rolling forward, back arching off of the bed.

Ardyn was suddenly hovering over you, a strong hand pressed against your belly, pushing you down onto your nest of silken sheets and his now sweaty and slick-covered clothing. The alpha snarled at you, pinning you to the bed.

“You’re a naughty little mink, you know that omega?” he cooed, trailing a fingertip around your navel and up to your chest. “I had an important meeting to attend to, and yet, here I am, having to supply your needs since you’ve gone and decided to enter your heat now.”

“Alpha.”

Your head craned back, the sheets and clothing now cool with your sweat, covering your forehead and your eyes partially with their cool kisses. But your alpha was having none of it, simply brushing them out of your face.

“And now, just the scent of your sweet heat sent me into my rut early,” he sneered, leaning down.

You cried out when his cold tongue slowly licked up your stomach, right up to your neck.

In a flash, Ardyn had flipped you over and pinned you to the bed face first. He snatched at your hips and immediately hoisted your bare ass up in the air for all to see. A sharp crack against your asscheeks sent you moaning into the sheets, your knees to wobble and your shoulders to burn from keeping you in that position for so long.

Ardyn immediately plunged into you, your chambers echoing with your heavy moans and his groans of pleasure. His grip on your hips tightened as he quickly snapped his hips back and forth at an animalistic pace. Sweaty hips clashed and clapped at your asscheeks as you were only able to writhe and seek comfort with your hands fisting the sheets as more of your slick dripped down to coat them.

One of Ardyn’s hands snatched at your hair, slowly craning your head back bit by bit until he was able to grab ahold of your chest and push your back up against his rock-hard chest. Ardyn’s lips hungrily bit at your neck and shoulders, pressing messy kisses to your jaw, scratching at your shoulders and chest while you whined and grabbed at what little of him you could.

With every thrust, you could feel his knot slowly growing bigger and bigger until it suddenly plunged right inside of you. Ardyn roared, throwing his head back, one of his large hands coming up to your throat to squeeze every single moan from you. He moved his thick cock as much as he could within you, chasing your orgasm as you pulled and pushed yourself on his knot.

A sharp cry sent you reeling as your orgasm ripped right through you, your body quaking and buckling, the two of you toppling onto your nest.

* * *

You purred and pressed your jaw closer to Ardyn’s cool hand as his thumb traced invisible patterns into your heated skin.

Your alpha watched on in amusement, a content smirk plastered on his face. He watched you in adoration, completely lost in your beautiful face and falling even more in love with your little coos and purrs and whispers of love and mating.

His fingers left your jaw to card into your hair, fingertips rubbing over the raised skin of your delicate scalp. Maybe yanking on your hair was a bad idea, but if it was, you didn’t complain at all. Instead, you only hummed in adoration and snuggled closer to your alpha as you both laid in your messy nest.


	4. Lunafreya Nox Flueret x Winner’s OC (Catherine)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is our first time writing for an OC, lol! Hope this turns out well for you all!
> 
> This Chapter Contains No Warnings.
> 
> Song Choice: wish you were gay - Billie Eilish

She had no idea what stirred her from her peaceful slumber first. Maybe it was the wafting, warming scent of breakfast? Or the soft music that managed to creep into the shut bedroom through the vents?

No, Luna knew what woke her. The shattering of something made of glass followed by a series of short, quiet curses.

Luna’s eyes fluttered open to revel in the soft sunlight fading into the bedroom through lacy curtains. A small smile crept upon her lips as she cuddled closer to the warmth of her blankets, now pretending to be asleep once she heard quick footsteps honing in onto her bedroom door. She could hear something rattling and a soft tune being hummed, but she couldn’t make out what song it was until the door opened.

The beautiful smell of breakfast hit her hard. Luna clenched her muscles, knowing full and well her stomach would growl and give away to her partner that she was awake.

The person grew closer and she suddenly felt their heat along with the heat of freshly made food stop right next to her to set the tray down.

It took the person a minute before they finally placed a soft hand onto Luna’s blanketed shoulder, slowly shaking and squeezing. Leaning over Luna’s shoulder, a pair of soft, smooth lips pressed a quick kiss to Luna’s cheekbone, forcing the Oracle to suddenly smile and start to laugh softly.

“You’re awake?” Catherine choked, shocked to see Luna now sitting up in their plush bedding. “How long have you been awake?”

“Maybe a minute or two?” Luna questioned herself.

“That’s good, I didn’t keep you waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” Luna smiled, already knowing what her lover already did.

She could see it out of the corner of her eye, the beautiful, sweet breakfast Catherine had made her.

“You know what I did,” she laughed softly and proceeded to pick up the tray.

Once laid in Luna’s lap, the Oracle cooed at how much Catherine remembered the small details on her favorite foods.

Fluffy waffles with Altissian peaches and sweet maple syrup. Strips of turkey bacon, all crispy and crinkled. A little bowl of freshly cut fruit, straight from the farmer’s market (which she totally didn’t see the smuggled bag in the trash last night after dinner). A tall glass of freshly squeezed juice.

How did she ever get so lucky to meet Catherine?

“It looks divine, dear,” Luna cooed.

Catherine leaned down planted a quick peck on Luna’s lips.

“Happy birthday,” the dirty blonde whispered into Luna’s ear.

Luna sat back against her plush pillows and pat the empty space next to her.

“Come sit with me. Your feet must sting just a bit from standing and cooking for me all morning.”

How could Catherine deny Luna? The dirty blonde sat next to her lover and hummed, getting under the covers as well.

“You want to finish watching that one Altissian baking show?”

“You read my mind,” Luna smiled before she cut a fluffy square out her stack of waffles.

About ten minutes later and Luna had just finish sipping from her glass of juice, the two intently watching the finale of their new obsession show. The had no idea how a reality baking show set on one of the few little islands surrounding Altissia was just so interesting to them. Despite not knowing more than half of the terms used in the show, the two often scoffed, groaned and chided contestants for their choices and dumb mistakes as if they were these big, professional bakers.

“You think Ignis would win at this?” Luna questioned her lover.

“Funny to think Ignis would ever go on a reality show,” Catherine chuckled.

“He has the skills. We both know that, we’ve visited Noctis before where Ignis cooks up a storm. I think he would do very well at these shows.”

“He also has the attitude for reality television.”

The two shared a quick laugh.

Luna placed her hand on Catherine’s and squeezed, turning to look at her lover. She smiled sweetly at Catherine.

“Thank you for the perfect breakfast,” Luna cooed.

“I hope you’re ready for dinner tonight. Ravus and I have been planning this for a while now.”

“Ravus actually let you in on his plans for my birthday?”

“I was shocked too when he called me at first, you’re not the only one that got surprises for your birthday.”

Luna laughed and placed her head on Catherine’s shoulder, mingling her fingers so they would fit perfectly between Catherine’s.

“See? I told you Ravus would warm up to you sooner or later.”

“Yeah, you told me.”

Catherine pressed a quick kiss to the side of Luna’s head and went back to watching the show. The two continued to ridicule their television screen, questioning them on why they chose to use one thing over another, why they chose lilac icing when baby blue would have looked better, why they were using dark chocolate over milk chocolate. They were sure their neighbors below them could hear their criticisms just as the two often heard their snide comments about other reality tv characters.

“So…?” Luna smiled.

“So what?”

“Are you going to let me in on what you and Ravus planned for my birthday dinner?”

“Nope. But,” Catherine squeezed Luna’s hand, “I may be able to be persuaded into giving you a hint for your big birthday present.”

“Breakfast and a big dinner aren’t it?”

“They were just the beginning,” Catherine hummed, pressing another kiss to Luna’s silken hair. “Happy birthday, Luna.”


	5. Bigby Wolf x Werewolf!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains the Following Warnings:
> 
> Partial Werewolf Transformations  
> Sexual Intercourse  
> Werewolf Sex :)  
> Song Choice: Francis St. - Kyd the Band

He knew from the moment he met you that you were like him. You were a werewolf, but you were most likely not made by being stabbed with a bloody dagger on your way to Fabletown.

But…

You didn’t know you were a werewolf.

Bigby found it the most perplexing thing, Snow too when he told her about you. Your records in the books were labeled as human or human-like, Swineheart never mentioned that you may have any supernatural abilities or effects on your body. Snow questioned Bigby on his theories about you, but he stuck to his hunch, so the Deputy Mayor went along with him despite her not fully committing to the idea.

“Are you sure they’re really a werewolf? No records show that they ever transformed back in the Homelands or here,” Snow looked through various books at her crowded desk.

“You can’t smell it, but I can,” Bigby stated, opting to not pop a cigarette between his scarred lips for once.

Snow sighed and closed the books. She sat back in her chair and glanced at Bigby.

“If you’re certain, then be careful. We don’t know if they were cursed or not, and they might not know either.”

Bigby hummed, only to straighten up at a sharp scent stabbing his senses. He sniffed the air, eyeing around the Business Office before he cleared his throat as he quickly noticed Snow was watching him.

“I gotta go,” he grunted, quickly taking his leave, leaving Snow to stare at the Sheriff in slight confusion.

* * *

The scent was faint at first in the Business Office, Bigby only managed to catch a whiff of it once he ignored the urge to smoke those hefty cigarettes. He was glad though, he didn’t have the rancid smoke clouding his nose, allowing him to track the scent down the streets of Fabletown. Fables watched him as they walked by, confused at what he was doing or flat-out annoyed that he was there, some even looked a bit terrified to be in his presence. But Bigby ignored then, instead deciding to chase down that sweet, taunting smell around corners, down blocks until he finally realized where he was.

He looked at the apartments spaced out, the street empty of cars but now trash, the familiar door before him.

The scent was overwhelming. Bigby was hot under the collar by this point, his face flushed and his eyes drooping. His mind was now a mess of mumbles and static. He swayed as he raised a fist to knock on the door.

No answer.

Bigby placed his forehead against the solid door and knocked again, sniffing the door, getting closer to the scent.

It smelled divine, sex to his nose, the werewolf’s nails digging into the door.

Still no answer.

But he did hear something on the other side of the door. It was soft, needing, pleading, like a soft moan.

Bigby could feel warmth on his palms from the apartment.

“(Y/n),” he called, knocking again.

He strained his ears, blocking out all sounds the city was making. His breathing was not helping, however, but he did hear you whisper his name before moaning.

By the point, Bigby was sweating bullets, his (for once) clean white dress shirt now starting to soak up.

He felt something gnawing at the back of his mind, he felt himself loosen up, lose his humanity just a bit before he shook his head, finally understanding what was happening once he caught a glimpse of the long black claws protruding from his fingertips.

You were in heat.

Bigby swallowed thickly and pat at his pants, suddenly remembering the key you had slipped in a few weeks ago. The cold brass felt so welcoming to him as he quickly snatched it and threw open the door.

Bigby stumbled through your apartment, groaning and pulling at his tightening shirt and collar, feeling his body start to give in to your heat, your pleas and mewls.

It was smoldering inside of your apartment, your place was a mess. Pillows and blankets and such missing from your living room, your laundry a mess, your bedroom door was slightly open.

Bigby suddenly winced and snatched at the wall, feeling more of his body slowly transform. His spine popped like firecrackers as more hair grew abundant on his arms. The clothing he wore started to pop at the seams, tearing apart.

The scent only became more potent when he got to your bedroom door, the scent of your heat radiating thickly. Bigby threw open the door, snarling as he felt the cloth of his pants tighten in the crotch.

You laid there, in a nest of blankets and clothes, moaning and crying, transforming ever so slowly.

* * *

At the sound of a vicious snarl, you turned your throbbing head to the doorway, gasping softly at the sight of Bigby standing there, panting, grabbing at the molding, transforming and his clothes popping off of his growing body.

You mewled, fisting the nest, baring your aching teeth to him and sobbed for him.

You had no idea what was wrong with you. You were doing light chores around your apartment one minute and the next you’re suddenly sweating and fatigued, your body twisting and turning as hair and fangs and claws grew from your body.

You were about to call Bigby’s office when you suddenly nearly toppled over by a strange sensation in your core, completely wrecking you. You had the strange need to snatch any piece of comfy fabric that smelled of Bigby and snuggle into it.

“Bigby,” you whimpered.

He only snarled, pupils shrinking in a sea of solid gold.

He lunged at you, pinning you to the bed just as his clothes shredded from the sudden movement. You moaned just as Bigby smothered you, kissing and biting and licking at your swollen lips, your fangs clicking together and claws sinking into each other’s skin. Bigby’s large hands roamed over the skin that was still visible, starting to slowly become covered with thick, coarse hair.

You felt his large cock prod at your entrance, slowly dragging the head of his thick cock around. He ripped away from you and snatched at your raw hips, yanking you up and plunging it deep inside of you.

The two of you found yourself snarling and growling, your vocals morphing to that of beasts as Bigby pounded in and out of you without mercy.

The wolfman above you lapped at your sweaty neck, nipping at the columns of your throat before he reeled back and snapped his jaws down on your shoulder, locking his jaws into place as you whined and howled with pain and pleasure. Your hands flew to Bigby’s back, claws gashing at his back, dragging down his spine, forcing him to pull away and howl as he continued to ram into you without mercy.

You could feel something rough press against you with every thrust he made, slowly growing bigger and bigger until he had somehow managed to thrust it inside of you, sending the two of you howling in pleasure.

You had no idea what was happening to you two, but you had no problem waiting until morning to find out.


	6. Bigby Wolf x Deputy!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains the Following Warnings:
> 
> Mentions of Drugs (No drugs are used in this fic)  
> Song Choice: I Wanna Get Better - Bleachers
> 
> A little heads up, this does mention stuff from the Fables comic series that is not in the game! Just an fyi.
> 
> Also, enjoy the John Mulaney reference :)

At first, when Bigby brought you the current case King Cole needed to be solved, you didn’t think a route to the solution would be fake dating to sneak in on information. Yet, here you were, making sure you had everything together and ready for your “date” with the sheriff.

The case shocked you at first, but you quickly grew to actually believe it fully. Mundies know about Fabletown, about what you all were, or at least some of the mundies that is. And those mundies that do know about you all living amongst them know that you all are harder to kill, harder to hurt, so that means the harder it is to heal up with normal mundy objects and products.

Fable drugs.

Apparently, there have been trades of fable drugs to the mundies going on for nearly two decades, well before The Crooked Man stepped in with his illegal glamours and sex slaves. But what were fables getting in return? Not a lot of mundy drugs and products worked on fables besides the normal rubbing alcohol and cigarettes. Weed barely worked on most fables, crack did nothing but sit weird, LSD really only numbs a bit of pain.

So what were fables getting in return? Whatever it was, you highly doubt that the trade-off is safety from the big reveal that fairytale creatures live in New York.

You tugged at the sleeves of your jacket and glanced yourself over one more time before sighing contently. You were sure this would work out well and the case would be closed soon.

A knock at your door distracted you from the mirror before you. Your heart stopped for a moment when you finally started to realize the gravity of this whole thing.

You had to go on a fake date with your boss, a man that you’ve actually found yourself falling for more and more each day that you work with him. You started to fall hard and fast for all of his little quirks, like how his nose always twitches before he lights up a cigarette just to be sure he won’t miss out at the last second, or how he like to fiddle with his tie when he gets bored (typically he likes to mess with the loose stitches on his tie if he doesn’t want to do paperwork).

You opened the door to see Bigby… actually wearing something new?

You’ve never seen Bigby out of his normal button up dress shirt, mostly in white or gray, and black pants and matching shoes. And his hair, normal swept back from when he would typically grab it or push it out of his face. He looked like a different man and it shocked you that he put that much effort to try for this whole fake dating scene.

His hair was parted the same, but it was better groomed, combed and properly cleaned now. He had shaved his jaw clean, but you both knew that as soon as you got to the scene, a shadow would be forming to replace it. He wore a clean, black sweater that clung to his lean muscles deliciously, a pair of jeans (you had no idea Bigby knew jeans existed) and a clean pair of boots, and a simple leather jacket finished it all off nicely. He also smelled different. He didn’t smell of cigarettes and whiskey, but faintly of nice cologne and mint.

“You ready?” he asked, bringing you out of your thoughts. “From what Jack was babbling about earlier, it sounds like a diner where the Lucky pawn used to be is their meetup place.”

“Sounds good,” you smiled.

Just as Bigby backed up to let you out of your apartment, he stopped you just as you were about to lock your door behind you.

“We don’t have to go about this like this if you’re not comfortable with it. Cole only suggested it because he thought it would be easier on both of us.”

He had a hold of your upper arm. He wasn’t squeezing, but it was firm and longing and reassuring.

“No, it’s fine. Do you have a problem with it?”

“No! I mean, no, but I never really did anything like this,” Bigby quickly babbled, letting go of your arm to rub at the back of his neck.

You only laughed at his worrying and locked the door to your apartment.

* * *

There weren’t many people in the diner. Maybe a few college kids, a waitress and then you two and the suspects. The waitress paid no mind to either of you, only doing her job quickly and quietly before going back to sit down and smoke.

You both did the usual fake dating scheme, holding hands, laugh at each others stupid jokes, use pet names that made you both cringe on the inside. Secretly, you were enjoying it all. You especially loved having Bigby’s large, warm hand around yours.

“Who is it?” you mouthed, watching Bigby who was looking over your shoulder.

“I don’t know who the mundy is, but the fable… I’ve seen him waiting in the Business Office line a few times,” he mumbled to you.

You two sat in one corner of the classy 50’s diner while the suspects were in the other corner.

“Is it the one guy with the freckles? Wooshy hair?”

“Wooshy hair?” Bigby suddenly laughed, eyeing you playfully.

“You know,” you motioned to your hair, “wooshy.”

“Yeah, that guy. He’s a cab driver, but… Shit, I don’t remember his name.”

You could hear the two muttering behind you, but you couldn’t make out exactly what they were saying, just bits and pieces. You knew, however, Bigby was getting every single word.

“Well?”

“Fable drugs for money. Lots of it.”

“Where’s it going to?”

“That’s what I don’t know yet.”

You strained your ears and sipped at your water, your knee anxiously bouncing in anticipation.

You could hear the two talking clearly now that the jukebox had stopped playing What’s New Pussycat for the fourth time in a row. You could hear the college kids snickering at the jukebox in the background, most likely at the waitress’s unamused reaction to the groaning old jukebox.

“Nine thousand each,” the mundy muttered.

“The Adversary would definitely be pleased with that.”

Both you and Bigby found yourselves choking on your waters at the same time at the name.

Both the mundy and the fable noticed and stood to make a dash for it, but the big bad wolf was too fast for them and had both of them in handcuffs and pinned to the booth and table faster than It’s Not Unusual started up on the jukebox.

* * *

It was probably past midnight by the time you both had made it back to your apartment. You both spent so much time filing paperwork and interrogating the two, you both were exhausted. You were so lucky you both lived on the same floor in the Woodlands.

You both trudged up to your door, Bigby waiting for you to fish out the keys.

Just as you were turning the knob and opening the door, Bigby stopped you. He gently grabbed at your bicep.

“Hey, hold up a second,” he hummed.

“What’s up? Wanna come in for a bit?” you nodded to your couch.

“No, I shouldn’t, but…” He looked away from you for the briefest of seconds before clearing his throat and looking back at you with those big puppy eyes. “Do you maybe… wanna do that again?”

“The fake dating for suspects?”

“No, at least not the… fake part.” Bigby cleared his throat and scratched at the stubble now formed on his broad chin. “I’m saying, we could probably go on a real date sometime? And not to a shitty, rundown diner with What’s New Pussycat playing twenty-one times in a row?”

You could see the blush now starting to form over Bigby’s hollow cheeks and you smiled.

“I’d love that.”


	7. Prompto Argentum x Fem!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains the Following Warnings:
> 
> None  
> Song Choice: Someone - DAISY

“Prompto,” you whispered.

With what little vision your eyes could muster in the darkness, you made out his sleeping form. You could see his chest slowly rise and fall in the dim light, the only source of light provided was outside of your bedroom door, a fake battery-operated candle that needed a new pair of batteries soon.

Your brow twitched as the sleeping blond only rolled over onto his side.

You had an itch.

A burning itch.

Not that kind of itch, like on your body or anything, but an itch for adventure and exploration.

“Prompto,” you called a bit louder, no longer a silent shout.

And still, the blond slept peacefully.

You don’t know why you were trying to wake him up at 4:39 in the morning. But it seemed alright, for some reason. Sure, neither of you had work that day, but you two would no doubt visit Noct at his apartment (or as you all agreed in a joking manner, your second home) to play video games or watch movies.

You yearned to sit on your motorcycle and roam outside of the Insomnian walls. Sure, it was nothing but desert and drylands for miles, but it was still an adventure. Your motorcycle finally was able to get tuned up, and now she’s waiting to be ridden.

And you wanted to comply to her wishes soon.

“Prompto,” you straight up called.

You shook his freckled shoulder. The blond only groaned softly and cuddled closer to his soft pillow.

You wanted to have Prompto be there on this adventure. You both promised each other to be there, to help each other. You want him to experience what you normally experienced before you met him. You wanted to take him on a joyride, to have him see the sights you love to see.

And besides, it’ll be a bigger bonus to him as you can help provide the perfect shots of beautiful landscapes and gorgeous scenes of nature so he can take all the pictures he wants to take. You knew he had been wanting to try out new items he had gotten for his camera like a new lens and such.

“Prompto,” you said just a bit louder, finally squeezing at his thin arm. The blond let out a low moan and shifted his head just a bit, letting you know that he was now awake and waiting to hear your proposal. “Let’s go out. On the bike. Outside of Insomnia.”

Prompto’s brows pinched together and he sat up. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands before looking at you. He always looked so cute when he wakes up. His chocobo-blond hair a mess, his eyes all squinty.

“It’s like 4:30 in the morning,” he mumbled, sitting back against the pillows. 

“So? Anytime is a good time for an adventure,” you hummed. “Besides, I know some spots you may like for amazing picture opportunities,” you sang.

“The one spot right outside of the walls?”

“Nope.”

“That one wave pool right by Galdin?”

“Nadda.”

“Where is it then?”

“You’ll see.”

You held out your hand, a smile pressing against your face. You were bouncing with anticipation.

The blond suddenly smiled and took your hand.

“I can’t say no to you.”

You sprung against him, pressing a quick kiss to his freckled cheekbone before bounding off for the dresser.

* * *

You kicked the rest out, finally allowing your motorcycle to rest against the dirt road. You watched Prompto wander around the patches of wildflowers, slowly moving along the tree lines, camera ready in his ready hands.

“Wow, this place is fantastic!” he smiled brightly

“It gets better,” you laughed, catching up with him before he wandered too far ahead.

“How so?”

“There’s a reason why I wanted to get here before sunrise.”

You pointed towards the end of the little fields of flowers and small trees to the edge that overlooked all of Leide, and off in the distance, you could make out a sunrise peeking over Insomnia’s walls.

* * *

As you both wandered back from where you came from, Prompto took to showing you all of the pictures he took just moments ago. You both jumped at the loud chime you could easily make out to be Noctis’ alert tone on Prompto’s phone. The blond quickly looked away from his camera to laugh softly.

“What’s up?” you smiled, leaning back on your motorcycle.

“Noct wants to hang out for a bit before he has to sit in a meeting for like four

hours.”

“Nasty.” You tossed Prompto his helmet. “Let’s go.”

* * *

You and Prompto both found yourselves plopping down onto Noct’s comfy couch, loving how soft and squishy it was.

Boy, was it good to be a prince.

Noct sat down normally, alerting both you and Prompto that something was wrong.

Before either of you could ask, Noctis answered for you.

“Dad told me something, well, he’s sending me somewhere with Ignis and Gladio, and I was wondering if you two would like to tag along.”

“Ooo, royal work,” you hummed, laying your head in Prompto’s lap as he too sat up.

Prompto carded his fingers in your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp and running his fingers through your hair.

“Where to, Noct?” Prompto asked.

“Altissia.”

Both you and Prompto sat up straight, alert.

“Altissia?” you both questioned.

Noctis laughed and scratched the back of his neck.

“What’s the occassion, buddy?” Prom laughed.

“I’m getting married.”


	8. Blackwatch!McCree x Civilian!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:
> 
> None  
> Song Choice: Saturday Sun - Vance Joy

At first, when McCree was informed that Blackwatch would be heading out for surveillance for Overwatch, Jesse scoffed and nursed his aching muscles from his brutal training. Jesse barely paid any attention to Reyes at their meeting for boarding and he didn’t listen to Moira’s sharp jabs at him not listening. Hell, Jesse even fell asleep on his way to the meetup with Morrison and some of his troops.

“Jesse,” Reyes grunted, grabbing the back of the cowboy’s collar and yanking him down towards the map, “stop drooling over the locals and pay attention. This is serious.”

“Alright,” Jesse rolled his eyes, tugging himself out of his boss’ grasp.

Reyes slapped a fingertip down by the center of town marked with a red dot.

“This is where we’ll all be to scout out for the targets. They’re supposed to be meeting at the cafe right across the street from where Genji will be seated inside of the omnic body shop.” Genji hummed darkly, eyeing Reyes with a warning glare and twitching his hairy brows. “Moira will be seated already at the cafe and I will pose as a waiter seeing as the owner makes generous contributions to Overwatch.”

Jesse found his eyes lingering out to the window, eyes roaming over the busy streets and… stopped… on someone… Jesse’s shoulders perked up as he stared longer, his honey-brown hues following the movement through the streets until they managed to squeeze into the cafe. A waiter, judging by the looks of the uniform. However, just as they were waiting to squeeze past customers leaving, they slowly turned as if they sensed him looking, their eyes locking for the briefest of seconds before slipping away into the cafe.

A sudden, soft punch to the side from Genji sent Jesse hissing and clutch his hip, glaring at the ninja.

“Pay attention, cow man,” he hissed.

“Appreciated, Shimada.” Reyes cleared his throat and pointed at the street on the map. “Jesse, you’re going to pose as a normal citizen wandering the streets with Overwatch agents Rooks and Higgins, acting as muscle in case Moira and I can’t stop them in time.”

“Got it,” Jesse affirmed.

His face read to be lazy and annoyed to be stuffed in a room with the rest of his team, but in the back of his mind, he’s happy. He hoped he could see that waiter again. He had no idea why he felt like that all of a sudden, but he wasn’t going to complain.

* * *

Jesse hated the outfit Reyes had stuffed him in. The jeans were too tight in the crotch, the sweater was itchy and the jacket kinda cut off the circulation to his hands by his wrists and his boots felt like they would pop apart in the heels. Not to mention Reyes had forced him to comb his hair back, Jesse snarling how he didn’t want to look like some fuckboy from almost one hundred years ago and rightfully refused Reyes giving him a ‘Ryan Goose-Goss-whatever-the-fuck’ hair cut. He glared at the smirking commander while Moira smirked evilly as she placed loose clothing on, a flowy sweater and comfy leggings.

“Don’t give her that look, Jesse,” Reyes chided.

“What I don’ understand is why I ain’t the waiter,” Jesse scoffed as he pulled at his clothes.

“Do you not remember the Rialto? You almost got kicked into the ocean because you couldn’t do an Italian accent. What makes you think you can pull this off?” Reyes laughed as he tightened the cuffs.

“My accent was good,” Jesse grumbled, pointing his nose up a bit to his commander.

“Keep telling yourself that, Jesse. I’m sure Ana said you were good that time,” Moira mocked, pulling up a plucked brow at the cowboy.

Jesse snorted and pushed past Rooks and Higgins, walking out in the middle of the busy pedestrian-filled street and pulled out a cigarette. Placing it between his lips, he pat down his pants for his lighter that he couldn’t find. Just as he was about to turn, he felt a tap at his shoulder.

Expecting either Rooks or Higgins to start chiding the Blackwatch officer, he turned to glare at the person only to nearly choke down his cigarette when he saw…

The waiter…

“Excuse me, but you dropped this,” you handed the near-empty resin lighter to the cowboy.

Jesse quickly took the cigarette out of his mouth with one hand and took the lighter with another, softly thanking you. You weren’t in your uniform, leaving Jesse’s heart to pull as he realized you weren’t working and probably had somewhere else to be.

You kind of hovered in front of him, placing your hands in your pockets as you watched him light up his cigarette and carefully blow smoke away from you.

“You still here?”

“You’re not from here.”

“How could ya tell?” Jesse grinned.

“Don’t play like that, cowboy,” you purred. “Why were you looking at me yesterday? Up in that abandoned shop?”

Jesse, once again, almost swallowed and choked on his cigarette.

Jesse blew smoke away from you before putting on the biggest, stupidest smile he could muster.

“Cause you caught ma eye, darlin’.”

You rolled your eyes playfully.

“Look, I would love to stay and chat, but I have to go.” You hesitated for a bit before sighing and pulling out a pen. “Give me your hand.”

Jesse nearly fainted. You were giving him your number! Jesse held our his calloused hand to which you wrote down those magical digits.

He watched you disappear into the crowd then back to his hand, completely ignoring Rooks and Higgins and Reyes suddenly jumping the two suspects behind him.

* * *

“What do ya mean we’re leavin’? Ya said it woulda took a month! It ain’t even a week!” Jesse questioned, following Reyes through the hideout.

“We got everything out of those two. Talon bases nearby that Morrison plans of raiding, shipments coming up that we need to ambush,” Reyes huffed as he threw his clipboard on a stack of boxes. “We leave tomorrow night, Jesse. That’s when Morrison pushes in.”

Jesse cursed under is breath and abandoned the hideout. He couldn’t leave yet! He still needed to talk to you…

You…

Your number!

Jesse nearly threw his phone from how fast he yanked it out of his pocket, quickly filling in the numbers and texting you a “simple and easy and fun” message that totally didn’t make him sound desperate.

He anxiously waited for your response, dreading as those three dots soon came and went. He bit at the end of his cigarette still waiting to be lit up by his dying lighter.

'Why does this sound like you won’t be around here for long?’

'Cause I’m not. I have tomorrow to give you.’

'I’ll take it.’

The cigarette finally fell from his lips to the dirty sidewalk before him. His whole body felt lighter now, a faint smile against his lips.

'Sounds like a deal,’ he texted back.

'Sounds like a date ;).’

Jesse laughed at the wink, foregoing his urge to grab another cigarette from the carton in his back pants pocket to look at his phone.

“Jesse!” Reyes suddenly boomed, the cowboy’s hand flying and sending his phone to his feet. “Get in here and finish cleaning up your shit!”

Jesse slowly bent down, pleading to whatever God is out there that his phone didn’t shatter, finding himself smiling again once he saw your last text.

'I look forward to see you again.’

“I do too,” Jesse mumbled, slowly entering the dusty hideout.


	9. Gladiolus Amicitia x Mer!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains the Following Warnings:
> 
> Reader is mentioned to be butt-naked for a brief second (no mention of genitalia)  
> Song Choice: Too Sweet - DAISY

Two years you had been with Gladio, loving him, caring for him, sharing everything with him… everything but your one little fishy secret. You had carefully dodged, fibbed gently and declined all of his offers to go swimming or camping with him when it was by a lake or river, knowing with Gladio’s playful nature, you both would end up soaked and your secret out.

It was the reason why you owned a shower and not a tub, and thankfully, Gladio hated the idea of bathtubs due to his large physique.

But now, for the first time, you finally agreed to Gladio proposal of camping in the lush forests of Duscae once you heard it was right next to a little lake.

Gladio never questioned why you refused to go near lakes or rivers, any bodies of water really. He understood people have their dislikes and possible fears and that bodies of water may just have been your fears. To say he was slightly shocked was an understatement, but he was happy nonetheless. Maybe you were getting over your fear?

You sat next to him in the car, listening to the lulling noises of the soft radio and the car humming against the freshly paved roads. You sat in silence, something that slightly confused Gladio, but once again, he didn’t question it. He sat there driving with a small, content smile on his face. It wasn’t until you both managed to pass through Liede that you both finally started to talk, joking about how Liede’s main road to Duscae was finally paved since the Jurassic Era and such.

It managed to calm you down just for a bit until you both pulled up to the camping haven. That’s when the anxiety and dread pooled in your stomach once more, twisting your guts around. You found yourself becoming more and more useless when it came to setting up camp, you couldn’t find yourself able to set up most of the items you usually set up. You could barely even pitch up the two chairs as Gladio started a small campfire. You knew he was watching your every move with a careful, fixated gaze, but he never said anything to you again. He didn’t want to cause something and ruin this entire trip and kick a hole into the relationship by complete accident.

It was starting to get dark. The sky burned orange, but with all of the trees clouding the light, it was starting to turn purple and blue under the canopy of leaves. You had to do it soon because you were both going to pack up and leave in the early morning to go sightseeing.

“Hey, Gladio?” you called, still staring at the fire.

“What’s up babe?”

“I wanna show you something. I’ve been meaning to show you for awhile.”

“What is it?” he hummed, stretching as he sat up from his chair.

“It’s…” You stood up and faced where the lake sat not too far away from the haven. “It’s better if I just show you.”

“Alright, lead the way.”

Every step you took, you started to tremble more and more. What would he think of you? A freak? A monster? A daemon?! He had the ability to summon weapons out of his fingertips! What if he saw you as a threat? You stopped at the little fishing dock and peered down at your reflection. You took a deep breath and dropped your pants. You could feel Gladio’s confused gaze on you as you stared at the lake butt-naked with a shirt on.

What got him to choke on air was when you simply walked off the edge of the dock, your name echoed through the forest as he raced towards the end of the dock. He nearly snatched ahold of your wrist but barely missed as you went under into the murky lake.

Gladio nearly dove in after you until your head popped up above the water. You faced away from him, anxiety bubbling in your chest as you found yourself not being able to turn around to face him. You huddled in on yourself, your hands grabbing your soaked shirt as you felt your tail form.

You were too scared to show him.

“I can’t, I can’t do this,” you whimpered, shivering.

“Hey, hey, no, give me your hand, I’ll pull you out,” Gladio softly called for you.

He thought you were still scared of the water when you were really scared of his reaction.

You refused and hid your clawed fingertips under your arms, trying to conceal the small patches or scales crawling up your neck.

“Gladio, I can’t show you,” you whimpered.

“Come here, babe, I’ll get you out of there, just calm down and breathe.”

Bless him and his gooey heart of gold.

You jumped when you felt his snag your shirt and manage to pull you back, slowly craning you out of the water despite your efforts to free yourself. You felt the water slowly creep down your chest to your hips, barely above your shirt when you felt the cold breeze brush against your scaley fin when you were dropped from his grasp. Gladio let out a soft gasp and stood up, you could feel his gaze burning the back of your neck.

“What are you?” he murmured to himself.

“Gladio…”

“Are you… Look at me.” You refused, biting your lip. “(Y/n), look at me.” You had no idea what compelled you, but you found your head slowly craning to gaze at your boyfriend, who looked down at you worried. “You want me to help you out now? So we can talk about it?”

He crouched down and inspected the water before shaking his head. You found yourself blushing as Gladio stripped off his t-shirt and pants before hopping into the lake with you.

“Gladio-”

He cut you off with a soft peck to your lips before leaning against one of the support beams for the dock.

“So… you’re a mermaid?”


	10. Bigby Wolf x Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:  
> Oral Sex  
> Rough Sexual Intercourse  
> Light Choking  
> Biting  
> Scratching
> 
> Song Choice: Splish Splash - Slothrust

As much as he loved to completely dominate you in bed, to pound you into the mattress and not being able to walk in the morning, Bigby couldn’t help but love being dominated by you in return. You could see it in his face how he longed for you to suck at his hard length. He hissed and moaned, his meaty hands clawing through your hair and nails combing through your scalp. He snarled every now and again when you would push all the long down his cock, having his dick fill the cavity of your mouth and throat. He was out of breath, wiping the matted clumps of dark chocolate hair out of his eyes that were squeezed shut. He hissed, you felt it too, his dick was stiffening more and more, twitching a bit. 

You were, at first, quickly bobbing your head up and down the length of his large cock, enjoying how he stretched your mouth as he enjoyed how your tight little mouth felt against him, how your tongue ran gently along the bottom of his dick and the little, teasing, sharp rakes of your teeth every now and again to spike something in him. To say he loved it when you gave him a blowjob was an understatement.

You smirked to yourself and, to Bigby’s great surprise, you pulled away until your lips barely covered the head of his penis. Bigby groaned loudly, fingers curling against your locks. A soft plea left his parted lips as he grit his sharp teeth. You softly laughed to yourself and slid your lips off of the head of his cock to place a little kiss on the agitate skin still fully erect.

“(Y/n),” Bigby found himself whining.

He shuddered violently, finding himself suddenly clawing at the mattress instead of your head. You found yourself rather lucky of his quick movement as you saw the small hints of black along his cuticles. Yeah.. you were thankful he didn’t sink his claws into your skull, for sure.

You kissed the tip of his cock, licking gently at the small bead of cum before carefully squeezing a ring with your fingers right below it.

“What’s wrong, Bigby?” you cooed, fake pouting as your lips ignored his throbbing dick.

“Please,” he groaned, suddenly glaring at you with golden eyes.

A sensitive shiver ran down your spine, only making your sex throb harder in return. You loved it when you made him like this: Desperate, needy, on the verge of changing into an animal.

You always loved it when he was an animal in bed.

Well…

You loved it more when he became more of an animal, that is.

Yet, you found yourself denying him, keeping your pretty little lips off of his aching dick and sitting back on the balls of your feet and toes, eyeing him devilishly as he begged with his eyes.

He always teased you in bed. Why not tease back?

They always say don’t poke the sleeping bear (or in this case, wolf) because something inside of Bigby snapped. You found yourself gagging at the sudden clamping at your neck. You found yourself being flung onto the bed and being roughly turned over, a hand still on your throat. Bigby was hovering over you, sharp teeth bared against curled back lips, haunting yellow and orange hues staring right into your core. You shuddered erratically at the thoughts of what Bigby might do to you as punishment for teasing him and edging him so.

A heavy growl left Bigby’s bare fangs before the pressure slightly loosened off of your neck, but he still kept his hand there.

Bigby grabbed your left ankle and yanked you closer to him, closer to the edge of the bed. The sweaty sheets bundled up under your back and ass.

You could feel his claws on the skin of your ankle, gently scratching raised mounds into your skin. You gasped as Bigby suddenly plunged into you, snarling at your sharp moan. Your head tilted back against the sheets, allowing Bigby’s hand to cover more ground on your bare throat.

How he wished he could collar you and choke you that way, but the collar was too far for him to snatch. Instead, he only clamped down on your throat every few seconds before releasing, teasing you as he helped you chase your high.

Bigby suddenly roared as he quickly came inside of you, hunching over and panting, still riding out his orgasm inside of you, fucking his hot and sticky cum deep into you, chasing his climax before he threw his head back and snarled in your face. You moaned as he slammed into your g-spot harshly, watching as more and more dark hair started to stick out of his face.

You winced as Bigby’s hand clamped down hard on your throat, your vision starting to blur together as his bedroom swirled around. You moaned softly, your body relaxing against the bed as Bigby absolutely made it his job to destroy you with his dick.

You felt so full, so stretched, you loved how his cock always tore your nerves apart in a fit of ecstasy.

Bigby’s free hand went to your hip, clamping down on the skin and sinking his claws in just enough to not draw blood, allowing him to drag himself deeper into you, to slam into your g-spot faster and harsher.

Bigby stared you down, pupils shrinking so tightly you could barely make them out anymore, swallowed in a sea of neon gold. His fingers slowly clamped down and loosened until you were squirming, feeling overheated as the coils in your belly tightened up too much, that’s when he clamped down fully.

He was panting along with you, snarling and growling as his head bobbed down again, trying to catch his breath, but he kept pounding away into you.

He threw his head back and snarled as he came inside of you once more, cum spilling onto the sheets, roaring and howling as he pounded slowly into you. With a few more thrusts, you found yourself unraveling beneath him, whining and moaning as your orgasm sent you seeing white from the lack of oxygen.

In your fits of moans and cries, Bigby sank down quickly and snapped his jaws over the skin of your shoulder, sinking the sharp fangs just deeper enough to allow blood to bead up in small dots against your skin. He licked the blood away with a rough tongue before pulling out of you, finally collapsing to your side on the bed.

You could already tell you would be wobbling around in the morning and Bigby would watch you amused.


	11. Prompto Argentum x Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains the Following Warnings:
> 
> None  
> Song Choice: Jelly the Queen - Feed Me Jack

You should have known that as soon as summer hit, you would be slammed with the same pleading question over and over again by your sweet, loveable boyfriend. How could you deny him a date to the Insomnia Fair? With those pleading blue hues and that quivering lip? You felt like if you were to deny him, you would be kicking an abandoned, cute little puppy into oncoming traffic.

So here you stood, next to a child in man’s skin who was bouncing happily, smiling like it was his first time seeing snow as you both stood in line for one of the booths. A shooting gallery, specifically as you both had promised to wait for Noct, Iggy and Gladio to get here in a bit. Not only that, but Noctis playfully stated that he and Prompto wouldn’t be friends anymore if he were to go on the new rollercoaster without him there. So, Prompto picked the first shooting gallery that had the most adorable plushies and proposed that he would get you the biggest one in exchange for a kiss.

How could you deny him that either?

And so, Prompto confidently took the paintball rifle from the counter and didn’t even bother to aim down the sights, the snarky teenager behind the counter rolling her eyes and leaning against a wall of tiny stuffed animals, thinking she wouldn’t have to do anything for a bit longer.

And just like his name suggested, within a flash, the cards on the wall were hit dead center, all ten of them. The teenager sighed and snatched at the stick to which Prompto pointed out a rather adorable chocobo plushie that probably wouldn’t fit in the trunk.

You pecked him on his freckled cheek and thanked him under your breath, leaving behind three little kids freaking out that there was a superhero in their presence.

It was when Prompto suggested going on the big ferris wheel that the three popped up behind you. All three eyeing the huge chocobo Prompto won for you before eyeing the two of you.

“How do you propose you fit that into the trunk of your car?” Ignis pushed up his glasses.

Prompto’s face blanked for a second before eyeing the stuffed animal itself.

“I didn’t think that far ahead if I’m being honest.”

“That’s fair,” Noctis laughed.

You couldn’t help but smirk at his “disguise” that totally wouldn’t get him pointed out, especially with a mountain of a man like Gladio standing right next to him.

Instead of worrying about the near future, you all simply decided to forget about the one troubling stuffed animal and explored.

In the mess of the carnival chaos, you both had managed to lose the prince and his babysitters in the crowd nearly two hours of jumping from line to line. However, in that carnage of rides and adrenaline highs, none of you ever expected Ignis to ever get on a ride. But with countless pleading (and one hoisting of his collar from Gladio) you had managed to get Ignis onto one of the smaller rides. But you all could tell by the look of Ignis’ face afterwards that he and rollercoasters did not get along.

You and Prompto aimlessly sat down in one of the carts of the ferris wheel, smiling sweetly at one another. The soft rocking of the ferris wheel cart helped ease the thumping of your heart as you laid your head on Prompto’s freckled shoulder.

“This was fun,” he hummed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, his hands squeezed your bicep softly.

“It was,” you smiled. “And now, we’re here, just the two of us.” At that, both of you slowly gazed over to the large chocobo plush that sat across from you, strapped into the other seat. “The two humans in the cart at least.”

Soft buzzing and whirling suddenly lead to crackling explosions in the sky, lighting up with bright, neon colors in great shapes. You both looked over one of the edges of the carts to see fireworks exploding vibrantly, crowds of people cheering and clapping. It was a beautiful sight to see from being well over a dozen stories in the air. You could see the whole fair from up here.

The ferris wheel stopped, your cart nearly at the very top, but just high enough for you both to let out a sigh of relief at the uncrowded air around you. It felt good to be alone with him for a minute after being in such a packed space.

You cuddled closer to him, humming at his soft fruity scent somehow - yet thankfully - not caked in sweat or dirt. He smelled of the “fresh” lemonade and sweet candies, he was warm against the now cooling breeze.

He pressed a kissed to the side of your forehead, humming as he squeezed you closer to him.

“Today was great,” you smiled, craning your head back just a bit to look his in the eyes.

You loved how they glew vibrantly with the fireworks exploding in the background.

“Today was perfect.”

Slowly, he leaned down and pressed a light kiss to your lips, smiling as you sat up, allowing yourself to give into the kiss, placing a hand on his jaw and he wrapped his arms around your back and shoulders, drawing your body closer to him, allowing your lips to melt into each other more and more.

A loud explosion rocked the cart, both of you pulling away to glance at the firework show ramping up, new shapes and animals and such. Both of you smiled and turned back to each other, enjoying as your lips quickly molded to each others once more, not even caring as the ferris wheel kicked back into motion.


	12. Prompto Argentum x Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains the Following Warnings:
> 
> None  
> Song Choice: The Brady’s - Tank and the Bangas

He paid no attention to the three watching on in confusion as he drew rapidly on the whiteboard with a dying marker. Chocobos and rings and poorly made stick figures and a bunch of chicken scratch only he could make out. He was babbling too, not once turning around to properly acknowledge and slow down for them to understand what it Prompto was freaking out about.

It was when Prompto finally capped the marker and stepped away that he looked at his three best friends to see them all stunned and very confused, looking at what was a very messy plan for something that looked very big.

“Prompto,” Noctis stated as he stood up from his sofa, “you’re my best friend and I care about you, so don’t take this the wrong way or anything, but… What is this?”

“I wanna ask (Y/n) to marry me,” he said as he tapped at the poorly drawn wedding ring on the whiteboard.

“You wanna get a chocobo to cough up the ring on her or something?” Gladio piped up, staring at the poorly drawn bird.

“I don’t know,” Prompto whined, suddenly facing his bad plans. “But that could be a possibility.”

“Prompto, I doubt any woman would like a large bird to vomit jewelry onto them,” Ignis sighed as he stood. “If I’m not mistaken, Wiz has done some work for proposals before.”

“That’s right!” Noctis perked up. “He’s done fake eggs cracking, chocochicks running in with a ring on their backs, chocobo races with stuff at the end and mushy shit like that! We should go ask him!”

Prompto, in his mourning state wiping away his poorly thought out work jumped and grabbed at Noctis’ shoulders.

“You would do that for me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Noctis laughed.

“Anything, squirt,” Gladio smirked.

“Shall I make a call to Wiz?” Ignis questioned, already pulling out his phone and contact book.

“You guys are the best!” Prompto cheered, now forgetting the chicken scratch still left on the whiteboard to chase after the three already heading for the door.

* * *

“What about… I don’t know,” you whined, tossing your pen over your shoulder in a fit of desperation.

“Hey, calm down, it’ll be alright!” Iris cooed as she rubbed your shoulders. “All that matters is that Prompto loves you and you love him. Who needs this big ceremony or whatever to ask him to marry you?”

“He does all of these big, beautiful things for me, Iris. I wanna do something like that for him.” Your head fell against the countertop, a frustrated groan leaving your lips. “Why is this so hard?”

Iris hummed and sat beside you. She looked over your pad of paper to all the scratched out ideas and unfinished ones. The yellow of the paper stuck to her head until she couldn’t focus anymore on the proposal, but of chocobos.

Iris gasped and stood up, slamming her little hands on the counter.

“Chocobos!”

“What?”

“Chocobos are his favorite animal! Wiz’s is his favorite place to go, right?”

You perked up and looked at the younger Amicitia.

“Iris, you’re a genius!” You snatched at her hand and yanked her out of your apartment. “Let’s go! We have a proposal to make!”

* * *

The four quickly exited the Regalia, not caring that they looked like they were crazy or high on crack, especially Prompto who nearly fell face-first onto the dirt trying to climb over the top instead of opening the door. It was a good thing only one other car (besides Wiz’s old beaten-up pickup truck) sat in the little parking lot.

As Gladio closed the hind door behind him, he eyed the car before nudging Ignis with his elbow. The advisor peered over his glasses at Gladio before following his gaze.

“Isn’t that (Y/n)’s car?” Gladio questioned.

Prompto perked up at Gladio’s question and he and Noctis turned to the car. Prompto’s world came crashing down around him.

That indeed was your car sitting next to Wiz’s pickup truck with the cute little chocobo bobblehead and little moogle and cactuar air fresheners that needed to be replaced strung around the mirror.

You were here?!

Anxiety bubbled inside of Prompto’s chest.

He could have sworn he heard your voice at the little shack from where he stood, Iris’ too.

“She’s here!” he silently screamed to Noctis who stood shocked next to him. The prince snorted and tried to hold in a laugh, causing Prompto to punch him in the arm. “This isn’t funny, dude! What am I gonna do now?”

“Relax, Prompto,” Ignis smiled. “Let’s just get closer and see if she’s there. Maybe she and Iris are just going for a little ride?”

Prompto nodded and the four slowly made their way to the back wall of the shack. He could perfectly hear your sweet voice he would love to hear forever.

“Oh! I know just the thing for Prompto!” Wiz chuckled. “The chocochicks and their little cart! He would just adore that!”

Prompto nearly passed out, the three men around them stood there with their mouths hanging open.

You were looking to propose to Prompto?! With chocobos too?

Prompto grabbed at Noctis’ jacket, freaking out. The prince only laughed silently and nudged him off.

“You might as well just ask now,” he shoved Prompto out from behind cover.

* * *

You went to turn to Iris only to spot Prompto out of the corner of your eye. You froze solid, eyes widened, heart stopped.

“Prompto?” you gasped. “What are you… How long have you..?”

You found yourself quickly wrapped in a tight embrace, his soft lips against yours, arms tangling, hands clawing at clothes.

Prompto pulled away for a second, looking at you with his forehead against yours.

“Will you marry me?”


	13. Gladiolus Amicitia x Fem!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:
> 
> Mentions of Terrorist Attacks (Fall of Insomnia)  
> Sexual Intercourse  
> Song Choice: House of Gold - Twenty One Pilots

Gladio clawed his way through the crowd, pushing past carts and cans and table and people, the last received his rushed apologies. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, it was too crowded, too loud, too busy for him to think properly. His crazed amber eyes scanned the over-populated campsite, searching, but not yet finding his target.

Your name spilled from his lips over and over, like a chant, a prayer to the Six, a plea that this is true and not some cruel joke Dave was playing on him.

The lumbering giant that was the king’s shield was rough, rugged, strong as mountains, but with you… he was soft, gentle, warm, loving. He treated you as though you were fragile glass in his war-torn hands. He never found himself getting mad at you, raising his voice at you. You were his calm, his love.

But he didn’t have his calm right now, he was panicking.

He searched through the refugees, babbling out your name like he was some lost widow, the ring on his finger becoming heavier and heavier.

He saw that list Dave had, he saw your name amongst the survivors. Where were you?

“(Y/n)!” Gladio roared, turning to look behind him.

“Gladio!” he heard an echo.

The shield perked up, eyes searching the crowd to his right. He could see people moving, allowing someone to pass.

“(Y/n)?”

He could feel his throat tightening, his heart pounding his ears.

“Gladio!” you cried.

It was you!

Gladio felt hot tears spill down his chiseled cheeks, his breath now trembling as you parted through the last line of people.

He never thought you looked so beautiful.

Even with your hair still dirty and matted to your sweaty and mud-crusted forehead, the scars and stitches and bandage, the bruises and the scratches, he still found you perfect.

You quickly shared the same face as Gladio as tears drifted down to your trembling lips.

Gladio was on you within a second, his big, meaty arms crushing you against him. The mountain crumbled, trembling as he thought he lost someone else he loved to such a terrible tragedy. He large hands grasped at your tattered clothing, lacing into your dry, dusty hair, pushing you closer to his body. He pressed a shaky, trembling kiss to your cheek as you sobbed into his neck.

“I’m here now,” he promised, rocking you back and forth, rubbing calming circles against your lower back.

* * *

He sat there with the papers in his hands. The campfire before him nearly gave out, the last embers popping, keeping the shield awake.

‘Insomnia Falls!’

It had been a few days after they had left Lestallum. He had been hoping that when Iris called in a hurry, you would be there with them. Sadly, Iris hadn’t seen you, neither had Monica, Jared or Talcott.

Gladio sighed and folded the newspaper back up, leaning forward in his chair to rest his elbows on his knees. He was exhausted. He knew that his father was gone, dying to protect the King. Iris had managed to make it out with Jared and the others…

But you…

“Gladio?” Ignis called from the tent, quickly exiting. “Are you alright?”

“’m thinking,” was all Gladio muttered, not even paying attention as he fiddled with his wedding ring.

“I’m sure (Y/n)’s alright.” Ignis placed a hand on Gladio’s broad shoulder. “Monica mentioned to me that Dave and some other hunters would be helping out any refugees they see. I’m sure she’ll be with them.”

Gladio nodded and bit his lip, feeling his throat start to tighten.

“Thanks Iggy,” Gladio sighed, feeling himself started to shake out of fear.

Ignis squeezed the shield’s shoulder, humming.

“Are you alright?” he questioned softly, barely above a mumble.

“I miss my wife,” he sniffed, shocked by the tears beaded at his lower lids.

* * *

It was rare to have privacy, but somehow, you both had received it in the form of Ignis and Monica shooing everyone away from the rickety old outpost. It had been nearly two weeks after you had been reignited. two weeks of careful loving from Gladio, recalling everything to Noctis and crew, of cautiously recovering from being in such a terrible accident.

You had woke to crave a hot shower and a hot meal, something you were grateful for.

As you were pouring coffee, you felt him snake his large, heavy arms around your waist and his prickly chin scratching against the nape of your neck. You giggled at his affection and cooed at the soft kisses traveling down your neck to your shoulder.

You moaned softly as Gladio gently bit at your shoulder, pulling down the loose, very oversized sweater that belonged to your loving husband to kiss at your chest and the curve of your breast.

You trembled to place down the mug of coffee and face him, your lips greedily attaching themselves to his. His hands grabbed fistfuls of the fabric and pulled, dragging you closer to his rock hard body. Gladio growled into the cavity of your mouth and hiked you up by your ass, his large and meaty hands attaching to each cheek. He ground into you, you could feel his clothed erection pulse against you stomach.

You pushed against him, your legs fumbling across the little living room, up the stairs to your shared little room at the end of the hallway. Gladio laid you down gently on the old mattress, not wanting to jostle you and hurt you anymore. He purred as he knotted his fingers in with the sides of your panties and tugged them down, pushing up the sweater as well to leave you bare for him. Your husband quickly dropped his pants as well, climbing onto the bed and hovering over you.

He pinned you down to the mattress, slowly caressing your body with his calloused fingers, kissing up and down your beautiful skin until he gently and slowly penetrated you. He held you as you gasp and winced at the painful stretch, but moaned alongside you. He waited for you to coo at Gladio, tug at his broad shoulders and curl your fingers into his dark chocolate locks to start to piston his hips.

He never became rough with you in bed on his own, not wanting to bring you any harm. This rugged man built for battle and protection for the ruler of one of the biggest continents was so soft and gentle in your graces.

He moaned softly, head lolling to the side as he slowly pistoned his cock. You whined, grabbing at the mattress cover and thin sheets, bucking your hips. You loved how he stretched you, how his thick dick always seemed to fill you up perfectly and stretch you every time.

Gladio leaned over and pressed gentle kisses across your shoulders up to your neck and jaw, slowly closing in on your lips. He growled into your mouth once more, slowly speeding up, but never harsh enough to hurt you.

Gladio peered into your eyes, panting with every thrust, matching your whines and cooes with huffs and grunts.

“I-I love you,” he winced, suddenly gasping.

“I love you… too,” you whined, your hands snatching at his meaty shoulders.

“Never leave me.”

“I don’t plan to.”


	14. Bigby Wolf x Fem!Mundy!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:
> 
> Semi-Werewolf Transformation? (Sexy Bigby, but not super sexy Bigby)  
> Song Choice: Girls Like You - Denny

His apartment smelled of coffee, cool rain, and warmth. You could still make out sharp whiffs of cigarettes and old takeout, but you knew those scents were fading…

Magically, that is…

You fiddled with the cup of coffee in your hands, looking over the gorgeous art on the recyclable cup. ‘Phillip’s Kiss’ no doubt relating to Prince Phillip, a fable from your childhood. You couldn’t help but think of what happened to the prince that lead him down the path to owning his own coffee shop and being a barista.

But then again, you now looked around you more often to look and think about how all of the people surrounding you slowly became who they were today.

Especially the one you were sitting against now, listening to his strong heartbeat and his heavy breathing (which you always noticed he growled silently with every exhale). You hummed and rested against his strong chest, smiling as he eyed you while sipping his pitch-black coffee. His lips curled into a smirk as he pulled away from his cup to look down at you.

“What are you looking at?” he grumbled.

“Just a very handsome sheriff,” you cooed. You set your coffee down on his new coffee table and snuggled closer, enjoying how he was always warm. You also loved how his clothes always smelled of the woods and cut grass after it rained. “I love how warm you are.”

Bigby draped a lanky arm around you, rubbing your back and hiking you up against his side so he could crane his neck and kiss the top of your head.

“And I love how adorable you are.”

You couldn’t help but smile wider, trying to hide your heated face. You loved it how he always complimented you, how he always loved you and took care of you. He did everything he could to make sure you were taken care of and that you were safe if you to ever venture into Fabletown without him. He made his once dingy and rundown apartment a second loving home to you.

Bigby always loved having you around, loved it when you snuggled against him, when you kissed his bruised knuckles or wrapped his wounds despite you knowing that they’ll heal fast no matter what. He loved how you cared for him when everyone in Fabletown would beat him down.

He loved you even though you were a Mundy.

It wasn’t forbidden, Bigby made that clear to you from day one of this relationship, but it was mostly looked down upon. And you knew that nobody you knew would believe you that dwarves and trolls and the big bad wolf existed outside of movies and tv and comics, so you went on with the partial truth about how you were dating a cop who works in Manhattan’s Upper West Side. It was good enough for friends, family and nosy coworkers.

Bigby set the now empty cup of coffee next to yours to properly hold you. Bigby shifted around just a bit to now drape both arms around your shoulders, reclining just a big to be barley lying down. His eyelids fluttered and he hummed at the soft rain dribbling down the streets and gently tapping at the windows. It was peaceful, lulling, the quiet static from some random channel quietly played in the background.

You rolled your shoulders, feeling one of Bigby’s hands slide down your shoulder and arm. You reached for it, your cool fingertips warming up as soon as you grasped at his own.

You loved the distinct differences between yours and Bigby’s hands. Your hands were small and delicate and soft against his warm, rough, meaty paw. You loved how big they were too, enjoying how he automatically clasped his hand over yours until you could barely see your own hand anymore.

There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask Bigby, he knew that too, he so desperately wanted to tell you everything you wanted to know, but he couldn’t. He told you everything he could, but Snow was there to stop him from revealing too much. She promised you as well that she would let you know everything once King Cole came back to see you for himself.

You knew what Bigby was, you knew the risks of being with him, of seeing him if he were to ever get angry.

But neither of you feared as Snow had expected.

You were what keeps Bigby calm and in control of the wolf thrashing and howling for control, making it a docile little puppy. You knew Bigby one day would show you what he looked like, what he truly was, but today wasn’t that day, today isn’t for that.

Today is for relaxing in his freshly painted apartment, for cuddling with your bellies full of warm coffee and breakfast, for watching stupid romantic comedies without actually paying attention, for sharing soft words and promises, for loving.

Bigby growled softly as you played with his fingers, smirking and finding himself chuckling at how sweet you were to him.

You remember when he would doubt himself, smoke himself sick with those rancid old cigarettes “comically” labeled after him. He broke down, he pleaded with you, he opened up to you, he loved you, he needed you. He was grateful that you stayed.

He often questions how he ever got so lucky to meet you. It was pure luck that he was able to spot you, and he was ever so thankful that you spotted him.

“I love you Bigby,” you hummed, melting into him as he grasped a fistful of your sweater.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” he grumbled.

* * *

“Ready?” he questioned.

You could hear his speech slurred, blocked by something. His words sounded heavy.

“Ready,” you stated, taking a deep breath.

It hadn’t even been a few hours after you drifted off that Bigby decided to ignore the current plan. He didn’t want to keep secrets from you, but he didn’t want to scare you either.

He wanted to show you what he was.

“Open your eyes.”

Your lids slowly peeled open to see Bigby facing away from you. You could tell he had already changed. Muscles strained inside of his button-up, his hair was messy. But what immediately stuck out to you were his arms extended out, hands flat against the wall. He must have hunched over as he started to transform. Ebony black claws sat long on his fingertips, strong arms set heavy with thick brown hair and new swollen muscle.

“Bigby-”

“Are you sure you want this? To see me?”

You pressed forward, reaching out to pull his head around. Your eyes widened a bit at his eyes. So bright, so yellow, like the neon lights outside of his apartment. His pinprick pupils bore right into you, but you just melted at the sight of them.

You didn’t care about his bushier brows or the scruff growing from his cheeks nor the rows of fangs sticking out from his gums.

You cupped his sharp cheekbones and smiled sweetly at your lover.

“I’m sure. I’m always sure with you Bigby.”

Bigby was taken back by your kind words, the wolfman straightening up, clawed fingertips twitching as he tried to hold you without harming you.

“(Y/n)…”

“I love you too,” you hummed, pecking him on his lips.


	15. Vampire!Ardyn Izunia x Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:
> 
> Biting  
> Blood  
> Song Choice: Happy Birthday, Johnny - St. Vincent

No matter how often you tossed and turned against the silk sheets, you couldn’t find comfort to sleep. The sheets were too hot, the room was too noisy (even though no sound was made in your shared chambers), the space beside you was too empty for your liking. It finally hit you in your sleep-deprived face, forcing you to sit up.

“Ardyn,” you mumbled, eyeing around the board bedroom chambers.

But your Chancellor could no be seen or heard from where you sat on the oversized luxury bed.

You fisted the sheets and sighed, leaning against the pillows and peering around the room once more before you started to itch. Not an itch you could scratch, but an itch to find him.

You had no idea what time it was, nor did you care. You needed to find him, to bring him to bed with you. You needed him to sleep soundly, especially here.

Your cold feet hit the expensive rug and soon carried you to the cold marble tiles that made up the flooring in your chambers and the hallway outside. You took up a robe that was draped over a chair beside your bedside, worried that someone might see you in only your thin pajamas.

Bare feet padded against the marble tiles to the elegant wooden door Ardyn had installed to replace the “ugly, cold” metal one as he put it. You didn’t doubt that the curly doorknob was made out of real gold as you often noticed maids polishing it more than the rest, as well as very furiously to make sure it was actually clean.

You turned the knob and pushed it open silently with a nudge from your hip. The hallways was at least lit with dim lighting from the fluorescents above. The pale light stung your eyes for only a second before you proceeded down the stretch of hallway. This one was special was painted beautifully, had polished marble tiled floor, and it only had three carved wooden doors. On the left was a storage closet for special cleaning supplies and extra blankets, silk sheets and other items maids used quite often when cleaning your room and Ardyn’s office. On the right sat your bedroom which was way bigger than your apartment in Lestallum. At the end of the hallway sat Ardyn’s office, but he wasn’t in there. The knob was locked and no lights were on.

He could be coming back to the bedroom already? Or he could be wrapping up some things below…

Either way, you made your way to the last door in the hallway, the only one with a control panel and the one that was made out of metals, not wood. 

You swiftly entered in the pin, a number you don’t know about, a date from what one of the maids had told you before she started to clean up your bedroom. You briefly wondered what happened more than two thousand years ago before you shook your head and walked out into the hallway.

It was dull, the bright lights surely different from the ones in the last hallway. No elegant wooden doors or beautifully painted walls or polished white and black marble floor tiles, just metal.

All metal.

You padded against the metal floor, shivering and hating the feeling of your bare feet against the flooring, hunching over in disgust slightly whenever your nail scratched at it. Slowly, you made your way to the last door on the left side of the hallway, the only one along that wall as well on the other side. Setting in that date once more, you passed through the swishing door and stared down the length of stairs.

Carefully padding down each one, you shivered as you heard eerie echoing coming from a directional you didn’t know. It was haunting, it creeped you out.

As you got to the doorway at the bottom of the long flight of stairs, you stopped once you heard footsteps pad around outside. They sounded human, they wore boots. They faded off down the hallway and that was when you opened the door.

You nearly shrieked upon seeing Ardyn standing there, but the Chancellor seemed to calm down quickly, stern face dropping to soft delight upon seeing you.

“Ah, hello my sweet,” he purred. “Were you looking for me? Worried?”

“I missed you in bed,” you hummed.

Ardyn chuckled and stepped closer to you.

“I’m here no, my sweet.” He raised a hand and caressed your cheek. “You look so tired,” he crooned. “Let’s get you to bed.”

You stared into his hypnotic gaze, suddenly noticing his amber eyes had bled red. You swayed a bit before collapsing into Ardyn’s arms.

* * *

You woke up in bed. The space beside you still cold, untouched. You lifted your heavy head off of the soft pillow to spy Ardyn undressing by one of the wardrobes. Feeling your eyes on him, he slowly turned his head to look at you. A smirk pulled against his lips.

“I knew it was you behind that door,” he hummed, unbuttoning his shirt, “I could smell it.”

“Smell it?”

The clothing he peeled off pooled at his feet like puddles of silk. He turned and stalked towards you, smiling softly. Only clad in his dress pants, he kneeled on his side of the bed. You could still see that his eyes were red, still fixating on you, still hypnotizing you.

“Ardyn,” you croaked, still exhausted.

“Yes, my perfection?”

“What are you, dear?”

“What am I?” His eyes seemed to glow just a bit brighter in your dark room. You grasped onto more of the silk sheets. “I’m an old soul.”

“You’re a vampire,” you whispered, spotting the sharp teeth in his mouth.

Ardyn smiled at you once more before chuckling.

“Indeed I am.” Ardyn cocked his head to the side a bit, still watching you like a hawk. “Would you like me to help you sleep, my sweet?”

You felt compelled to say yes, but instead, you only nodded your head. Ardyn chuckled a bit more and hummed. He pushed you to lay on your back, hovering over you.

“Are you going to… bite me?” you murmured.

“You’ll only feel a little pinch, my love.”

Ardyn slowly leaned down. You could feel his cold breath pressing against your warm skin. You lost his eyes, only to stare out at the darkness sitting heavy in the bedroom. You felt Ardyn press a few kisses to your throat before nose at the columns of your neck.

You cried out softly as he sank his teeth into you, a whine leaving your lips as grasped at you, growling as blood dribbling out from your open wounds. He snarled, he drank from you, moaning, lapping up at the blood pearls.

You grasped at his shoulders, finding yourself moaning and sinking into the pillows as Ardyn drank from you.

You found yourself falling, spiraling out of consciousness.

You let him drink from you, you let yourself give in to the whispers.

You let yourself sleep.


	16. Werewolf!Sebastian Castellanos x Detective!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:
> 
> Werewolf Transformation  
> Blood  
> Gore  
> Song Choice: Be Calm - fun.

The stench of rot and mildew clouded your senses, the churning rusty odor leaking in the air sat heavy in your lungs, the taste of death sat boiling on your tongue. You often found yourself heaving, stopping to spit up so little bile - sometimes blood - on the spattered tile floors.

This wretched hospital, the walls lined with lies, the floors lined with bodies you weren’t sure are real or not. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore, not with the pungent scent of decay and insanity leaking into your brain.

You stopped to lean against a brittle tile wall, a hand going to your chest to snatch at the buttons of your uniform, twisting as your heart stuttered in your ribcage. You wheezed, your lungs seizing as bile clouded your throat, bubbling over to your lips, forcing it out with one thrustful spit to the ground, landing unceremoniously on some poor soul’s open milky eye.

You sneered at their outfit. A simple hospital gown with the stitched imprint nearly plucked apart. It still vaguely resembled a lighthouse.

‘Beacon Mental Hospital.’

No, it wasn’t simply a beacon, but a Meccah of madness that you knew you would find yourself checked in soon enough.

You lifted your shotgun with your other hand and shakily pressed the butt of the gun to the cracking walls. Dust rained down from the spider webs of cracks as you forced yourself away from the rotting wall, your legs nearly giving out under you as you stumbled down the hall.

You were left panting, no ammo, open wounds barely clotting by this point, and alone…

You had no idea where Sebastian had gone. You had no idea where Kidman or Oda were ever since you all got separated hours ago.

Glass crunched under your heavy feet, carrying you through the empty wards… at least they were empty of living humans at least as you eyed the corpses and insects skittering around. Over the crunching of metal under the rubber soles of your work boots and soft wheezing of your shaky breaths, you heard something.

You stopped, both trudging and recuperating, to hear a soft melody.

You eyed down the hallway over your shoulder. No shambling corpses, no comrades, no signs of hope or healing. All of the doors behind you were locked tight it seemed. The roaches skittering across the walls seemed to form their own lines, beelining to the only open door at the end of the hallway. A soft glow emitted from the cracks, white, like your soft bedsheets with your nice warm bed at home. How you longed to be home…

Hell, you would prefer working overtime with no extra pay doing complicated paperwork over this.

You took one step forward, the humming drowned into the melodic chime of a music box you would find in a child’s room. The glowing flickered like an old silent film. The door creaked open just a bit as you continued your slow pace towards it.

You found yourself in front of the door, fingernails grasping at the cold silver knob. Your dirty scratched up and infected hand touching something so clean and nice in a place like this…

You nudged the door open, squinting as the light poured out into the dim hallway. You hissed at the assault on your eyes, nearly dropping your shotgun to cover your eyes from the light from the…

“A mirror?” you mumbled, glancing between your fingers.

Victorian amongst filth. Royalty against peasants.

The mirror sat mighty over a cracked, cheap porcelain sink, a pale light emitting from its polished glass. The roaches all skittered into the cracks surrounding the expensive glass.

The chiming of the music box churned louder in your ears, acting as though the rapture were here to rip you from this world. Calm, blaring, your eyes felt heavy as you were compelled to step forward.

The shotgun slipped from your hands, forgotten on dirt, blood and chips of glass and porcelain as you trekked slowly towards the mirror with a hypnotic trance.

With a hand extended, you slowly brought your soiled fingers towards the beautiful mirror, your chipped nails zeroing in on the glass. You almost felt bad that you were about to touch something so beautiful in your current state.

In a flash, you felt the healing coolness of the glass once your fingers touched the perfect mirror before you were blinded by its shining light, the music box roaring in your beating ears until you blacked out.

* * *

A dull throb roused you from your “slumber.” You kept your eyes closed, hoping that you were at home, still tucked in with your warm sheets, you tv on still, rain pittering against your window.

The flickering of LED lights above and the groan of an old, dysfunctional record player forced you to open your eyes.

You were laying on the cold and unforgiving ground, your body feeling as though you were full of lead. You felt nauseous, stir crazy. The record player burning the last of your nerves.

You sat up, finally noticing your shotgun was still on your person. Clean… somehow…

Your eyes danced around the dusty room, noticing how it paired well with the rest of the mental hospital. A waiting room, it seemed.

You hoisted yourself up, snatching a nearby doorknob to help. You clutched your shotgun close to you, swallowing the thick lump in your throat as you moved forward.

An open magazine sat on the reception desk, the chair spun around, still moving slightly. Someone had left not too long ago. You eyed the door behind the desk, narrowing your eyes.

A sudden shout nearly forced you to pull the trigger, a short yelp leaving your lips. You reared your head around to the wrought iron gate covering the rusted steel door. You could see flickering lights below in the cavity of space provided. That shout…

“Sebastian?” you called out, raising your shotgun.

You slammed the hardwood heel into the lock, shattering the rusted piece right off. You tore off the door, the wrought iron clattering to the cracked tiles before you slammed your hip into the steel.

Another crackling of electricity forced him to shout again. There was something heavy about it, his shout was deeper, more powerful.

“Shit!” you spat, your hip burning at the pain as you reeled back and slammed into the door again.

The steel door gave just a little bit, the door slowly peeling from its jammed lock. You could make out just a bit from what laid inside of the room.

“Relax,” a woman cooed, “it’s almost over.”

You coiled your leg back, foot high in the air. Your boot kicked in the door, your finger itching on the trigger.

You found no woman inside, only Sebastian. He looked at you with pure fear in his reddened eyes, almost like a wild animal. You backed away from the door for a second, you needed to take everything in.

Strapped to an electric chair sat Sebastian Castellanos, the detective you were instructed to help out in Beacon Mental Hospital. Needles, now empty or emptying, sat punctured in his arms and shoulders, a few in his neck. They were filled with thick, dark liquids, those that weren’t empty that is. The cords strapped to the chair hummed violently, shaking the chair as electricity spilled out through the top.

Sebastian spat at the ground, blood lining his inner lips as he snarled.

“Go!” he snarled, his eyes bleeding to an acidic yellow, his voice hoarse, not perfectly human anymore.

The chair lit up as sparks crackled across his seizing body, a choked scream leapt from his throat. He yanked on his restraints, snarling like an animal. The leather and iron groaned and creaked against the pressure, the detective moan and growled in his seat, the veins in his body protruded and were painted black against his ghostly skin.

You lowered your shotgun and backed away, watching as his bones pressed against his skin, the poor man writhing in pain as sweat caked his body. The restraint holding down his right wrist snapped off, his fingers contorting along his palm, lengthening, nails sharpening into long dirty claws. He spat, his saliva a mist from his grit teeth now slowly rotating into fangs as he continued to seize.

A werewolf.

He was becoming a werewolf.

First these shambling zombies and now werewolves?

Your shotgun rattled in your quaking hands, feeling heavy. You had no idea what to do. Shoot him? You’ll be left alone here, possibly forever. Don’t shoot him? He’ll kill you, tear you apart piece by piece.

The record player started to skip, scratching at the old record to match with the flickering lights. You would see flashes of his glowing eyes in the darkness, the cut-outs of light hide his transformation, getting bigger and bigger, losing himself more and more to the beast.

You could hear that music box chime stir up behind you, a flash of white light flooding the room. The mirror returned.

The only thought running through your head was: Would you even be able to make it back to the mirror in time?

You glanced at the wolfman before you, skin slogging off, clothing tearing apart.

You clutched your shotgun and aimed down the barrel, hoping to buy yourself some time.


	17. Charles Smith x Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:
> 
> Post-Sex  
> Talk of Death  
> Grieving  
> Song Choice: Please Leave The Light on When You Go - Brittain Ashford

Your muscles sat weakened, your body sagged into the bed as sweat caked your bodies amongst various other… body fluids. You grabbed at the quilts and pelts, your fingers carving ravines in the soft colored cotton and furs as your shoulders quaked upon your attempts at rolling over. A chill ran down your naked spine, your nude body shivered as you came to realize that you were still naked. The sweat was not helping you right now.

Your swollen lips parted as cold, crisp air entered through to your heaving lungs. The wooden bed frame creaked as you fisted the comfortable layers below you, pushing yourself up. You craned your neck over your aching shoulder, eyes squinting as you tried to find the man you were looking for.

With what little light the dying fireplace provided, you could barely make him out in the darkness of the room. Hunched over, sat on the edge of the bed, head down.

“Charles?” you murmured, voice a little hoarse.

He hummed, but it wasn’t a true acknowledgment. You knew he wasn’t paying attention, he was trapped in his malicious thoughts.

You rocked your body against the quilts and sheets, sitting up now, laying your legs over the side of the bed. You grabbed the ledge of the bed with both hands, scooting next to Charles as close as you could without touching him.

“Charles?” you whispered once more.

The fire crackled away softly. With what little glow and with your eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, you were able to make out his form. He was tight, coiled up, looking like an abused man.

Something cold sat in your stomach, you knew something was wrong.

Your knee sat so dangerously close to his, just a hair length’s away. You felt if your knee did touch him, he would panic.

But as time groaned on in the settling wooden cabin you two called home, you soon grew too worried to even care anymore.

“Charles,” you called firmly.

Your hand slipped over your bare thigh to his large, meaty, scarred hand. Your gentle, soft fingertips against his rugged palm. He often smiled at how your hands compared to one another. Charles loves to hold onto your hand, even doing the littlest of things. He loved having your little fingers crossed as he stitched worn clothing, or even just laying around the house in front of the fireplace your hands would be entwined.

But now…

Even as your thumb caressed the back of his scarred hand and your fingers entwined with his, he didn’t even blink.

You started to finally notice his shaking breath, his pinched brows behind his locks of ebony hair, the sweat beading on his skin.

“Hey, look at me,” you finally demanded.

You reached up and tilted his head just to look at your face. His eyes looked so hollow, so lost. You had no idea what was wrong with him.

Did you say something? Did you do something?

You had to admit, tonight wasn’t as… passionate as other nights, but you didn’t complain.

“Charles, what-”

“He’s gone too,” he finally broke.

He?

You couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening or what he was talking about until it finally struck you harder than being thrown off the back of a wild horse.

John Marston. One of Charles’ few remaining friends from when he was running in the notorious Van Der Linde Gang that completely tore up the whole state with robberies and heists going down in history.

And now, they were all fading fast.

“What… What happened to him? Do ya know?” you found yourself murmuring.

It hurt you to ask, but you knew Charles needed to start a grieving process before he hurt himself by bottling up his emotions.

“Pinkertons.” Charles pulled his jaw away from your calm hands and proceeded to stare right back into the fading embers that laid dying in the fireplace. “That’s at least from what I heard in town. Edgar Ross, a man that’s been following the gang ever since our gang settled in Horseshoe Overlook, back in 1899.” Charles sniffled and struggled to take in a full breath without trembling. “He had the army there, and the fucking Bureau of Investigations too. They just filled him with bullets…”

You saw Charles’ shoulders starting to shake and tremble.

He was finally able to grieve.

You got up from the bed and stood before your partner. A man so powerful, so respectful, so kind and generous, now sits before you, trembling and now starting to sob for the loss of one of his longest friends.

His large hands grabbed at your naked hips, his forehead resting on your stomach. You cooed at your partner, allowing him to squeeze your waist and bury his head into your stomach. He trembled and shook horribly against you. His tears were cold against your heated skin, still warm from your activities less than fifteen minutes ago.

Your hands slowly came down to his ebony locks, fingers twisting into the thick strands of hair, scratching soothingly at his scalp and pressing soft and gentle kisses to his forehead.

You could barely make out what he was sobbing out until you had to pull his face up. His eyes were pained, he had no spark in his eyes like he used to, no hint of that firey playful nature that had you swooning from the first few moments you met. He was broken, thrusted into this world alone.

“Charles…” you cooed softly.

“They’re all gone,” he hiccuped. “Arthur… John…” Charles’ face dropped even more before he found himself burying his face into your chest, standing up and enveloping you into a crushing hug. “I shouldn’t have left them.”

His knees trembled, threatening to buckle and give out under his heavy, swaying weight, threatening to bring you down to the hardwood floors as well.

You felt tears prickling your eyes as well the more you stayed there with him, holding him tightly, shushing him, cooing him, whispering sweet nothings to him, promising him the world and that he’ll see them again one day.

He needed to know that it’s okay for his walls to come down, because you were going to be there for him to help him. He needed to know that you would always be there for him when he needs you just as he’s there for you in your times of need.

All of these bottled up emotions, ever since he had to bury his old friend Arthur a couple of years ago… finally coming out now, in front of you, at the death of his friend John, a man you only met once on your little expedition Charles insisted on, stopping by their ranch for a late lunch. Abigal was kind to you, even let you in on some things about Charles when he was still in the gang, and Jack was a sweetheart, even offering you some fresh wildflowers he found.

Charles pressed a trembling kiss to your shoulder that was still soaked with his tears.

“Thank you,” he coughed.

“Anything for you,” you cooed, slowly rocking him back and forth, carding your fingers into his thick raven locks.


	18. Bigby Wolf x Deputy!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains The Following Warnings:
> 
> Alcohol Usage  
> Domestic Violence  
> Physical Abuse  
> Mental Abuse  
> The winner asked for the same Satyr Deputy used from our commissioned The Wolf and The Lamb!
> 
> Song Choice: Pity Party - Dalton
> 
> This is a PSA from Sheep-And-Lykos!  
> If you or someone you know is experiencing domestic violence in a relationship, please call the National Domestic Violence Hotline or get in touch with the local police.
> 
> The United States number is: 1-800-799-7233  
> Please visit the website for more information!

You couldn’t remember when it started… The slapping, the yanking, the screaming, the threats and the pleas and apologies. It happened gradually, but you felt like you could pinpoint a day where things turned a little sour. You didn’t know one act of kindness from your boss would result in this. You didn’t know Bigby walking you to the front door of your apartment would result in this abuse.

All of this lead to bruises blossoming on your skin, dark circles around your eyes, scratches and scars you tried to hide with makeup… You remember the pure shock and horror and fear you felt when Snow caught one of your bruises on your neck, but you played it off somehow.

But you knew you couldn’t fool him.

Bigby confronted you about it before, questioning a bruise or scratch or scar heavily. You knew he could tell you were lying.

You backed away from your seething boyfriend, shaking in fear as he approached you. You shook terrified, whimpering, tears streaming down your cheeks. You were already hurting, your scalp burned from where he snatched at you, your hand hurting from where he crushed it in his iron-like grip.

You cried out against the hard smack against your cheek, crumbling to the ground. Another harsh crack against your face sent you hunching into yourself only for you to be yanked up by him grabbing at your collar. He snatched at your locks of hair and slammed your skull against the wall, cracking the cheap drywall. You cried out, begging for him to stop, only to be thrown away from one corner tight into another, this time lined with the kitchen counters.

He reeled back and snatched at the collar of your shirt again, slamming you chest first into the counters with wobbly legs. You wheezed as your ribcage slammed against hard stone, clawing at it for purchase as he snatched at your hair again and slammed you face-first into the countertop.

One.

Two.

Three cracks against the countertop finally was enough to have blood spill from your nose by the droplet.

He turned you over to face his sweaty, ugly mug, but you could barely see through the tears pearling at your eyes. He smacked you once more, jerking your head to the side.

Sitting on the countertop sat one of the leading factors to all of this.

A now-empty bottle (a big one at that) of gin with little pieces of the seal sitting by the bottle cap.

As he reeled his hefty palm back once more, your hand shot out and snatched the bottle by the handle, twisting it around and smashing it against his face.

He roared, stumbling back and clutching his face as alcohol immediately invaded the cuts and gashes on his face. You pushed him away from you and stumbled to the door, barely managing to get it open in time and slamming it closed behind you as he recovered.

“You fucking whore!” you heard him roar as you hurried down the stairs. “I’ll kill you! And your mutt too!”

You slammed through the doors to your apartment building, not caring that they slammed into the brick walls outside as you hurried off into the night for safety.

* * *

You found yourself back at the Woodlands for the second time that day. You could already sense that something was off as Grimble was no longer asleep at the front desk, the security guard nowhere to be seen. You cursed under your shaking breath and rounded around the desk.

You rifled through the drawers of it to find something, anything, that would lock or block the front doors. Keys, a piece of metal or wood to jam the doors closed, anything.

Eventually, you managed to dig up a length of chains that were once used to lock the gate outside of the Woodlands, but Grimble stopped when he noticed more people worked at night.

You slammed the call button for the elevator and quickly wove the chains through the handles of the door, finally locking it closed when the doors would barely move if you were to jerk them by the handles.

You flung yourself into the elevator, sobbing as you mashed for the second floor.

You were hysterical, sobbing, hiccuping, sniffling, trembling worse than Crane at the sight of pumpkins.

You only stopped to breathe once the doors to the elevator closed and the metal cavity hummed to life. You did your best to wipe at the tears and blood and snot dripping down your face until the doors opened to reveal a very frazzled looking Bigby.

“(Y/n)?!”

“Bigby!”

You couldn’t help yourself. You flung yourself into Bigby who didn’t question a second of it. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you and lead you back to his apartment. He never questioned you as he carefully sat you down on his chair and locked the door behind him. He only did so once he retreated into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water and a piece of torn paper towel.

“He did this, didn’t he?” he snarled, eyeing the multiple bruises now forming around your neck and wrists. You trembled and barely took a sip of your water before you started coughing and wheezing, your hands shaking and the glass threatening to fall out of your hands. “Hey, hey, look at me.” He took the glass from you and set it down on the coffee table. He grasped your face, forcing you to look at him. “It’s going to be alright. Just breathe. I won’t let him hurt you anymore.”

You nodded quickly before coughing, hunching in on yourself as spatters of blood sprayed against your knees and the lower half of Bigby’s shirt.

Bigby cursed under his breath before perking up, looking at the window right next to you.

“Big-”

“No. Stop. You need to breathe.” A sudden crash from downstairs had you sobbing once more, clutching onto Bigby as you trembled like a scared child. “(Y/n), I won’t let him hurt you anymore. I need to take care of him. I’ll be back.”

He hand gently pulled your face up to look at him again. His eyes were already a glowing gold, you knew they would fight.

The chime of the elevator had you cowering, eyeing the door as if he would burst in at any second.

Bigby quickly threw open the door in front of you, ushering you in. He closed the door behind you, nodding before cloaking you in darkness.

You covered your mouth and fell to your knees, placing your forehead against the door. You flinched at the heavy footsteps coming down the hallway, finally stopping at Bigby’s front door. You squeaked against your hand when he knocked, vibrating with fear. You heard the door open.

“Sheriff,” you heard him greet Bigby.

“Why exactly are you here at two in the morning?” Bigby chided. 

“Why are you all bloody?”

“I’m doing my job, if you can’t tell.”

“You’re job is to beat the shit out of us, Sheriff?”

“No, my job is to take care of people like you.”

“So they are here.” He chuckled and then sighed. “Look, I don’t know what they told you, but-”

He was silenced by a swift crack followed by him stumbling back into the hallway.

“You’re under arrest for domestic assault and destruction of private property,” Bigby snarled.

You whimpered at the two fighting in the hallway, winced at the sharp cracks and crunches of bone splintering only to open the door to the dark bedroom to try and peek out only for it to open to reveal Snow White.

She gasped seeing you curled up, beaten like a circus animal, she even teared up a bit at the sight of your swollen eyes and blood crusted lips.

“I’ll call Doctor Swineheart, just try to lay down,” she whispered.


	19. Werewolf!Jesse McCree x Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains the Following Warnings:
> 
> Blood  
> Gore  
> Werewolf Transformation  
> Song Choice: Bad Moon Rising - Credence Clearwater
> 
> (Been wanting to use this song for a while ffs, ever since I rewatched An American Werewolf In London)

The dingy pickup truck now sat motionless. It’s dark purrs silenced by the turning of his keys, now tossed carelessly onto the passenger’s side along with his phone, wallet, his trusty hat, and holster with Peacekeeper sitting peacefully in her leather straps. He wished he could take a second to look at his wallet once more, just to see your smiling face next to him… Before he was attacked. He just couldn’t bear the thought of you seeing him like this, like a monster…

He hobbled around the silenced pickup truck, large hands grabbing ahold of the fiberglass body and holding on for dear life at the walls that surrounded the aluminum bedding.

Dust kicked up around his old hiking boots, beige and orange clouds quickly dispersing into the desert. Chills ran down his spine as the sun slowly set over the canyon’s jagged rocks, turning the beautiful reds, oranges, and yellows to haunting grays and greens and blues ever so slowly. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stick up. He couldn’t hear anything for miles around. Not a soul was driving through the desert, no trains coming in or out, no animals scurrying about in the sand and packed dirt below his feet. It was like they all knew what was coming.

He tore open the back of his tailgate, quaking hands reaching out for his saving graces that took the forms of old, worn chains and thick ropes needing to be replaced, leather and metal cuffs (which he had paid too much for when it came to discreet shipping) falling onto the desert floor with the weights of the heavy restraints.

He could feel it bubbling deep within him. He could feel it starting to scratch at his sanity, he could slowly start to see his vision sway and swirl, he could hear his mind start to turn to static that could make any sane man go insane.

He shivered violently and straightened himself up. The quickly cooling air did not bode well with his sweat-patched old shirt he knew he would not return home with. The same could be said with the cheap pair of sweatpants that didn’t sit well against his crotch and were too short.

He stopped trying to fumble and untangle the chains from the ropes for a split second to look up at the sky. The colors drained from his face just as quickly as the sunset bled darker and darker from pinks and yellows to purples and blues.

Jesse McCree knew this full moon would be something awful.

He spat a curse under his breath and finally managed to tear the chains away from the ropes and drag them both to the sturdiest tree he could find quickly.

He moaned and nearly fell to his knees as his heart throbbed erratically, a thrilling tremor wrecking his mind just for a second. He snagged ahold of the tree at the last second, his blunt fingertips digging into the dry wood of the tree.

The colors quickly drained from the canyon faster, the cloudless sky slowly brightening as the full moon started to rule the sky.

He managed to clasp one hand to the restraints, giving a reassuring yank to confirm that he would at least not get out during his brutal transformation. Large hands fumbled to lock himself up against the tree, but his quaking hands eventually couldn’t keep up with time.

The chains and ropes in his hands clattered to the ground as bile spat from Jesse’s mouth. As if being forced against his will, Jesse’s head slowly craned to turn and look over his shoulder, his eyes slowly being blinded by the full moon now bare and open in the sky.

Suddenly, the man fell to his hands and knees, the poor man coughing and hacking up blood. The muscles in his neck flexed and pressed against the thin skin of his throat. He choked on the piercing cold air of the desert, a scream barely being forced out, but it was broken as his vocal cords had become torn to shreds.

The old, sweat and oil-stained gray t-shirt was quickly stretched as Jesse’s ribcage suddenly snapped apart by the building pressure inside of him. Slowly, so painfully slow, his ribs one by one popped out of their sockets and pressed against his skin, stretching the irritated skin to make room for his growing lungs and heart.

The palms of his hands dug into the packed dirt of the ground fingers slowly carving trenches into the dark earth. Jesse watched through blurry eyes as his fingers crackled apart like broken pencils, the bones snapping at each joint, each digit growing longer and lankier. His knuckles pooled into a dark berry while his nails started to peel away from their cuticles, becoming like soggy paper packed together. He cried out through grit teeth and his heavy jaw as splitting pains protruded as sharp, bloody brownish-black claws, growing sharp and long, almost as long as Peacekeeper’s bullets.

Bloody tears dripped from Jesse’s eyes, falling to the dirt that greedily drank it all up.

Jesse suddenly shouted, his voice holding more weight to it, more grit and more growl forced into it. His body shot up and arched back, Jesse’s face pointing up to the sky and now being bathed in the pale moonlight. His eyes burned the longer he stared at the full moon sitting fat and happy in the sky, practically teasing poor Jesse McCree and many other werewolves and other supernatural creatures scattered around the world.

A sudden snapping in his chest sent the wolfman curling in on himself, hunching over, hands grabbing at his shirt. It felt as if his heart had been stabbed, the organ throbbing and screaming, beating against his hands harshly.

It was all getting too much for him. The constant pain coursing through his veins like a nasty fire, the thinning of his stability, the haunting thoughts cursing his mind.

He couldn’t get that image of you out of his head.

He fisted his shirt with one hand and snagged a hold of his thick chocolate locks and pulled.

You were the one that found him, in the middle of the road, all bloody and mangled. He remembered how hard you were sobbing, how much you were pleading with him to hold on, how you never left his side in the ambulance or in the hospital. He watched you grieve and worry for him for over a week and even more he was told he would be fine.

He couldn’t let you hurt like that again.

He never told you about what he does once a month or what he turns into. He still never explained why he was in the middle of the street almost bleeding out by the nasty bite on his ankle.

He longed to feel your warm and comfortable touch right now, to hear your sweet voice to help him calm down.

He yanked at the t-shirt, gray fabric pulling apart in his quaking hand, revealing graying skin with dark brown hair growing across his body in large patches, covering his changing anatomy.

His mind suddenly snapped, he finally lost his battle to the beast within him.

Jesse was forced to watch the monster he would become.

His heavy jaw unhinged, revealing sharpening teeth to the moon, a bellowing howl falling off of his pointed tongue as he stood.

He felt heavy, powerful now that the monster within him was released.

A sudden scent caught the werewolf off-guard. He sniffed between growls and snarls of pain as his face grew into a hefty snout.

It was sweet, yet it started to sour with worry and sadness.

The werewolf snarled, grit it fangs and seized the length of chain and rope holding his one hand hostage and yanked harshly. The links of chains snapped without hesitation and the rope snapped in two.

Now free, the werewolf sniffed at the desert breeze for the scent once more.

* * *

Jesse groaned winced at the sunlight bleeding into the room. He slowly curled up on his side and tried to cover his eyes with his dry hands. He slowly started to feel the groggy, heavy pain brought on by the transformation back to human that almost didn’t realize the blood still tacky on his hands.

Jesse jolted up onto his hands and knees, anxiety quickly climbing and now worsening as he finally noticed he was back home in his bedroom on the floor… that was covered in blood.

“No, no no no,” Jesse pleaded as he stumbled onto his feet.

He spun slowly, looking at the trashed bedroom. Picture frames off of the walls, knick-knacks smashed, a dresser had toppled over.

But you…

Oh God, he could smell your blood, it was everywhere, it was all over him.

‘What did you do?’ his mind roared.

“(Y/n)?” he called out.

His eyes finally landed on your body. You were on the other side of the bed, your clothing stained with dried blood. You were curled up into a ball, but breathing.

From where he stood, Jesse could make out the clotted bite mark sitting on your exposed hip.

Nausea started to set in, the room spun, he stumbled around.

He bit you.

No…

He **attacked _you_**.


	20. Farkas x Fem!Reader:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Post Contains the Following Warnings:
> 
> Werewolf Transformation  
> Feels  
> Song Choice: Broad Shouldered Beasts - Mumford & Sons
> 
> ˡᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵉ ʰᵒⁿᵉˢᵗ, ᶠᵃʳᵏᵃˢ ᶦˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᵖᵗᶦᵒⁿ

It was rare for him to don commoner’s clothes, but there he stood adjusting the belt over his broad waist and tugging at the sleeves that cut into his thick muscle ever so slightly. He felt off wearing commoners clothes. He was a Companion, a warrior, his armor was his common clothes and his weapons were nothing more but jewelry to nobles.

To say he felt off was gentle.

But for you, he would do just about anything.

He hadn’t meant to fall in love, he’s seen what happens when someone like him falls in love… It never turns out well, especially during certain times of the month.

To put it shortly, both end up bloody, but for him, it ends up with death as well.

Farkas swallowed and pocketed a dagger in his small satchel. He could never be too careful with the roaming lands of Skyrim. Her grounds always sat heavy with danger hiding in her beauty. He would protect you, he would give for you.

“You are going to see her, aren’t you?” Vilkas chided, leaning against the doorframe.

Farkas could hear his armor clenching and cutting into the stone pockets.

“And if I am?” Farkas turned.

Vilkas couldn’t help but snicker at his twin, eyeing his choice of clothes.

“To say you look uncomfortable is not all true.”

“Don’t add salt to my wounds.”

“Then don’t get wounded.” Farkas scoffed, looked away from his brother. “Does she know?”

“No.”

Vilkas stiffened a bit.

“She doesn’t about it?” Farkas’ hands bolted into fists. “Farkas, you know why none of us have laid with others.”

“I don’t need you telling me who I should be seeing.”

Vilkas recoiled from Farkas’ tone before scoffing at his twin.

“You’ve heard the stories Vignar and Jergen told us when we were cubs. You know what will happen with her!”

Farkas, feeling his anger boiling, marched past his brother, knocking shoulders together. Vilkas spun on his armored heel and watched his brother march off. The twin sighed, defeated. He knew it was always hard for Farkas to push past his feelings just as it was hard for Vilkas to push past knowledge.

Farkas stayed in the shadows of Jorrvaskr, watching as his fellow Companions rejoiced over mead and meat, laughing. He smiled as he crept through the back and out into the cool air of Whiterun in the evening.

As he was lifting his hair up to tie back, he spotted Alea notching her bow. Her gaze sent a shiver down his spine. She squinted at him, eyeing his clothes.

“You’re going to see her, aren’t you?”

“And what is this news to you?”

“Nothing personally.” The arrow slit through the air and struck the woven target in the center. “I would just like to know who you actually dress for. It _is_ rare to see a Companion out of armor, after all.” She hoisted another iron arrow from her quiver. “And I would also like to know why you haven’t been keeping up with it.”

Farkas sneered at the huntress before him. He was hoping she wouldn’t say a word, but that hope shattered worse than glass armor.

“I know how to handle it.”

He could feel it bubbling in his gut. Anger. Pure, white-hot anger.

“You know how to handle those claws?” she questioned without even looking. Farkas’ anger halted for a moment, just enough for him to look at his broad hands to spot the nails starting to peel away to become claws. He curled his hands into fists and looked back at the huntress. “It is not healthy to hold it in for so long. Don’t you remember what happened to Skjor a few winters back?”

Farkas remembered it too well. He could still feel the haunting raking of sharp claws down his back, the scars still thumping with hot blood.

“I won’t let it happen like that,” Farkas spat back.

Alea sighed and released the bowstring, the second arrow splitting the first one in half. She proceeded to notch another arrow against her bow.

“Alright then.”

Something bitter bite at Farkas’ tongue. The strong Companion took his leave.

* * *

You left the warmth of your home to embrace the slight chill in the air. You certainly enjoyed Whiterun, but you were longing to see your family back in Solitude. Perhaps you should hire a coach to take you home for a visit soon, before winter started.

You fumbled with your key for a moment before you felt a pair of eyes fall upon you. You turned to look behind you only to spot a guard walking by with a torch in hand. He nodded at you, but kept walking along the path towards Riverwood.

As you turned back to lock the door, you jumped at the large hand that planted itself on the doorframe, a small gasp leaving you while you jumped out of shock. A deep, grumbling laugh filled your ears as you eyed the man now standing next to you, leaning against the doorframe.

“Farkas,” you smiled, finally locking your door.

“(Y/n).”

You loved the growl in his voice, especially when he growls in your ear softly. You loved those icy blue hues of his, always so kind and warm towards you. And his body, so muscular and strong, he was so handsome as well. But he was so sweet, so kind, so caring to you. He ravished you, loved you, worshipped you more than any Nord worshipped Talos.

It didn’t help that his clothes were tight and his hair was pulled back and his beard was- and his smile and those-

You couldn’t help but get lost in his eyes and that smirk.

“Should we go?” he questioned, eyeing the walls of Whiterun briefly before looking back at you.

* * *

It was past sunset, maybe by a few hours, you couldn’t tell. Your face was hot, your hair was a mess that Farkas had pulled back for you. You swayed a bit, the mead affecting your movement just a bit. You didn’t drink much though, you didn’t want to wake up wanting to become a necromancer’s new play thing.

Farkas had insisted on walking you home, all but snarling at Mikhael for even offering to do so.

‘There could be wolves! Or a sabercat!’ he insisted.

He was so caring for you.

But this is where you started to regret living outside of Whiterun’s walls, at a newly built home behind Honningbrew on the hill. It was right on the cobblestone road to Riverwood, built maybe a season before you moved in. You had to walk so far from the tavern, you were starting to feel sick.

You could only wince at how Farkas must feel right now as he lived back in the walls of Whiterun.

You trudged up the hill behind Honningbrew when you turned to see how Farkas was fairing when you saw him clutching the directional signpost. His hair had loosened from its grip, now the ebony black locks hung in his face. The light of the full moon was the only thing lighting your way back home, and now, it looked as though Farkas was cowering away from it.

“Farkas,” you cooed, stumbling towards him, “too much mead?”

“Stop!” he coughed, holding out a hand quickly. “Don’t come any closer!”

You paused, squinting in the darkness at him to see he was trembling.

“Farkas?”

“Not a step closer!”

Through the dark locks clouding his face, you saw yellow eyes piercing through the night. You stepped back a bit, watching Farkas in your tipsy state. Your lover shuddered under the moonlight, suddenly snapping his jaws and scratching at the dirt.

You stepped away, watching his body twist and turn, coiling up only to swell with muscle and thick, wiry hair.

“Farkas..?” you whimpered, watching the man before you morph in a beast.

A werewolf.

He snarled at you, pupils shrinking as he stood up on his hind legs. The wolfman coiled back, his ears flattened against his skull as he bared his fangs to you.

The key to your home sat heavy in your satchel pocket. Your hands slowly clasped over it, but as you pulled it out slowly, Farkas slowly reeled back.

The werewolf before you snarled and snapped its leaky jaws at you, completely running off in the other direction.

You watched as it barreled past curious guards and farmers, all shouting and screaming as it chased after Skyrim’s wildlife.

You clutched the key closer to you, staring at the direction he took off in.

“Farkas?”


End file.
